LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. I 

Ji^ni ! 

Shelf ._AA-S 7 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 



N]j> FYTHIAS. 



THE STORY 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 



"Bkuold how good and how plkasant it is 
kor brethren to dwell togetukk in unity." 





BOSTOX: 

ALFRED MUDGE & SOX, PRtXTERS, 

34 School Stkeet. 

1878. 



t 






copyright, 
By LABAN M. T. hill. 



1878. ' 



I 



TO THE MEMBERS 

OF THE 

ORDER OF THE KXIGHTS OF PYTHIAS 

Ilf TESTIMONY OF THE FKATEKNAT^ "KKGA KD OK 
TIIK AUTHOR. 



THE STOEY OF DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 



CANTO I. 

ARGUMENT. 



Pal^emox, tlie Pythagorean, pursuing his homeward 
voyage, sails by night along the coast of Sicily, and in the 
morning arrives at his destination. — Palasmon in Syra- 
cuse. — He relates how the Syracusans defeated the great 
expedition sent against them by the Athenians. — Necrop- 
olis. — The siege and fall of Acragas described. — Alarm 
of the Sicilians. — The popular assembly is convened at 
Syracuse. — The speech of Dionysius ; its effect on the 
common people. — They take the lives of their military 
commanders, and then imprudently put Dionysius among 
the Board of Generals. 



The scene of each Canto is in Sicily. The narrative pro- 
ceeds in the assumed authorship of Falcemon, icho is repre- 
sented as being a member of the secret Brotherhood to which 
Damon and Pythias belonged and an eye-witness of the 
events described. 

I. 

The shades of evening fall upon the deep, 
On yonder fading headland, and the strand. 
Fast mingling with its fringe of springing surf, 
As onward rolls the dusky car of Night. 



6 DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 

O'er all comes darkness save the lofty mount 
Beyond Catana,^ that 'mid pitchy cloud 
And glowmg ashes lifts its gloomy flames, 
Licking the vaulted sky with sullen roar 
Which louder than the moaning surge is heard. 

Like Pythia's fire this Pharos ever burns,- 
A beacon to the wary mariner. 

The breath of Boreas fills the swelling sail 
As to the south our creaking prow is turned ; 
And 'mid the silent watches of the night. 
We plough with swifter course the watery waste, 
While to our destined port we nearer draw. 
Above, Orion, sheathed in gold,^ pursues 
His way, the glittering sword upon his thigh, 
Upon his mightful arm, the lion's hide ; 
The weeping Hyades,'* in endless grief 

^ ^tna: see Appendix A. 

2 The priestess of the celebrated oracle of the Pythian Apollo 
at Delphi was called The Pythia. On the Pythian altar, placed 
before the statue of the god in the most sacred recess of the 
temple, bnrnt an eternal fire. 

3 ** Armatumque auro circumspicit Oriona." — Yirfjil: yEn., 
Ill, 517. 

4 Hijades. The seven stars in the head of the Bull. The story 
is that the daughters of Atlas, King of Mauritania, were so af- 
flicted by the loss of their brother, Hyas, who had been killed in 
the chase, that they died of grief. They were five or seven in 
number. After their death they were changed into the constel- 
lation. The setting of the Hyades at both morning and even- 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 7 

And radiant beauty, mourn a brother's fate ; 

Brightly on Ev^ening's brow fair Hesperus gleams ; 

The Dioscuri, 1 saving from the storm 

The voyager upon Poseidon's realm ; 

The greater Arctus, guide of Grecian keels, 

The lesser, by Phoenician helmsmen sought ; ^ 

Selene's silver disk, full-orbed and clear, 

ing twilight "svas to the Greeks and Romans a sure sign of rainy 
weather, these two periods falling respectively in April and 
Kovember. To this the derivation of the word — from vetv, to 
rain — refers. Demoustier thus neatly tells the fable : — 
" . . . . Les Hyades plenrent leur frire 
Qn'un monstre dovorant ravit a leur amour. 
Le roi des cieux, toucha de leur douleur amere 
En vain les transporta dans son brillant sijour." 

Lettres a Emilie^ 

1 Dioscuri. A collective surname of Castor and Pollux, the 
tutelary gods of hospitality and navigation. In astronomy, the 
constellation of the Gemini. Among other appellations these 
deities had acquired that of ''sailor-helpers," 'apiayovavTai, 
Poseidon (Neptune) had given them, as the reward of their 
brotherly love, command over the winds and waves. They 
appeared after storms at the extremities of the masts and yards 
of ships, — a phenomenon nowadays called "the fire of St. 
Elmo." St. Ermo, however, seems to have been the older 
Italian name. See the once famous dithyramb, Bacco in Tos- 
cana, of Redi, in which he describes the constellation as 

*' L'oricrinite stelle di Santermo." 

2 According to Ovid, the Greek navigator steered by the 
greater, the Phoenician by the lesser. Bear: — 

** Esse duas Arctos; quarum Cynosura petatur 
Sidoniis, Helicen Graia carina notet." 



8 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

In tremulous vista, mirrored on the flood ; 
And countless clusterings of dazzling ra}^ — 
Await the lingering dawn and cheer our path. 

Purpling the sombre bourn of sea and sky, 
The first faint glow of rosy morning springs. 
Night's splendors pass away, the heavens pale, 
And Amphitrite's ^ breast no more is gemmed 
With gold, reflected from the canopy 
Above. In chariot drawn by tireless steeds, 
Eos, all- welcome Goddess of the Dawn, 
Chases the wavering shadows to their grave 
And clothes the orient slope with saffron hue. 
Until, emerging from the watery verge. 
The God of Day begins his upward course. 
North, east, and south the mounds of ocean gleam, 
Stretching away bej^ond the range of sight ; 
But westward, on Trinacria's^ shore, appears 
The golden shield^ that marks our journe3''s end. 

^ Ampliitrit6 was the wife of Poseidon, and so, by metonymy, 
the sea. 

2 Trinacria was an epithet of Sicily, and referred, of course, 
to the three principal x)romontories of the island (rpii?, a<pa.i). 

3 In that quarter of Syracuse called Ortj^j^ia stood a lofty 
temple dedicated to Athena, on the top of which was a sliield, 
visible from afar at sea. 

Sailors on the point of leaving the port were accustomed to 
take from an altar in the temple of the Olympian Hera a cup 
containing certain offerings; these they tlirewinto the sea when 
they lost sight of the landmark on the temple of Athena. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 



II. 

Beloved S^Tacuse !^ again thy walls 

Enclose the weary wanderer from afar, 

Who, homeward turning, seeks his native land. 

Again, with eager steps, I press the soil 

That bare me, and, with tearfal eyes, would fain 

Behold the friends of youth now passed away. 

Some 'mid the winds and waves have read their doom ; 

Others, beneath war's hurtling tempest fell, 

Careless of life if for their country spent ; 

Or, bowed with 3^ears, in peaceful rest were laid. 

How does my heart, O Philadelphus, mourn 

For those who nevermore may know its faith ! 

Again I view the towering citadel 

That frowns above Ort3'gia's sea- worn bounds ; 

The massive ramparts whose high battlements 

Protect our firesides from the invading foe ; 

The statues, groves, and altars of the gods ; 

The stately temple of Olympian Zeus, 

And many scenes, forgotten, but recalled 

As with attentive gaze I onward move. 

'•Not all things unto all men should be told " ;2 

But unto thee, my friend, I freely show 

Such pleasure and such grief as may betide. 

^ See Appendix B. 

2 One of the prudential maxims of the Pythagoreans. 



10 DAMON' AND PYTHIAS. 



III. 
Around me stand memorials of the days, 
When, like a torrent from the mountain-side, 
The strangers from be^'ond the ocean bore 
The whetted steel, — En3^o, Ares,^ both 
Approving, — and with spear and iron sleet, 
The mighty, climbing billow of their host 
Sought to overthrow our city from its base. 
When from Athense their armada sailed ^ 
To compass and to waste our fatherland, 
The loud-tongued trumpet sounded, and 'tis said 
The herald's voice invoked the gods in praj'er, — 
As if high heaven could smile on impious deeds ! 
Then was the paean chanted, while the chiefs 
Libations made, in gold and silver cups. 
Their passage to Corcyra straight thej^ took, 
And at Corc3Ta joining their allies, 
A thousand vessels bore them on their wa}", — 
Transports and triremes huge that vexed the flood, 

1 EmjOf Ares. The former, answering to the Roman BeUona, 
was the Greek Goddess of War; the latter — 

" Gore-tainted, homicide, town-batt'rer Mars *' — 
seems to have been the god not only of war, but also of general 
slaughter and destruction. 

2 The Athenian expedition against Syracuse, to which further 
reference is hereafter made in the third canto of this poem, 
sailed from the Piraeeus, the harbor of Athens, about mid- 
summer, B. C. 415. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 11 

And groaned beneath the enginery of death ; 

A swimming host of dreadful citadels, 

Such as the ocean never saw before.^ 

They passed Italians shore, and on the land, 

'Neath waving plumes stirred by the breath of War, 

And on the dark-blue wave, with brazen beaks, 

Closed round our sacred temples and our homes. 

As in the hateful bonds of servitude 

They sought to lead a race in freedom born. 

From 3^onder heights, outreaching to the main 

On either side, circumvallations sprang. 

Within the ever-narrowing folds begirt 

The brave defenders seemed a hope forlorn, 

While, life in hand, they met death's gloomy hour 

As men who for their country gladly die. 

Each in the common weal beheld his own. 

And stood unmoved against the thickening storm. 

Suns flamed and set, and seasons came and passed. 

As, in unequal strife, w^e faced the foe. 

And many a soul, 'mid deeds of deathless fame. 

Went to the unseen, all-receiving shore. 

Still round our crumbling ramparts, far and near, 

Forests of horrent steel uprising marked 

The hostile ranks whose number none might count ; 

1 " Ein schwimmend Heer furchtbarer CitadeUen, 
(Der Ocean sail ihresgleichen nie.) " 

Schiller : Die uniiherwindliche Flotte, 



12 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

And the broad field of ocean to its rim 
Was whitened with their sails. 

Thus like our fount 
Of Arethusa,^ ever famed in song, 
With flow unfailing and with waters clear, 
Girdled with billows on j^on rocky marge, 
Were we environed by the clouds of war. 
At last the God our earnest prayer fulfilled, 
And late, but surely, sent us welcome aid. 
G3"lippus came, a man well versed in rules 
Of strateg}^, an army in himself. 
And with him foreign help, both ships and troops. 

Thus was our city saved ; for with new hope 
We quicklj" sought the triremes and the camp 
Of our beleag'rers. They, in boastful pride 
Of numbers, little recked the sudden danger ; 
For then and afterwards, by land and sea. 
The spoils, the crown of victor}^, were ours. 
Then might j^ou see the brave Demosthenes, 
Who from Athense sailed to their rehef. 
And Nicias, great only in reverse, — 
The ill-assorted leaders of our foes, — 
Urge on their followers to heroic deeds. 

We who were late besieged, now, in our turn. 
Became besiegers, and our cause so pressed 

1 Arethusa, See description of Syracuse in Appendix B. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 13 

That soon the hostile multitudes were made 
The abject prey of slavery to the spear. 

Such gi'and events, the spoils of history, 
Took place, as you and other Brothers know, 
Whilst I, an exile from my native home, 
Repined in loneliness on foreign shores. 

IT. 

I passed from crowded life and stood amid 

The stillness of Necropolis, where rest. 

No more disturbed by War's loud clarion, 

Such as untimely, 3'et with glory, fell 

Upon the battle-field for Fatherland. 

The simple mounds of earth and heaps of stones. 

Columns and tablets, and the sumptuous wealth 

Of heroa,^ and deep, sepulchral vaults, 

Were, all alike, ingarlanded with flowers, 

The yearly offering of sorrowing friends. 

Near b}', with teeming life and happy homes, 

I saw the queenly cit}^ that they saved ; 

Beyond, the harbors and the dark-blue sea 

O'er which the hostile armament advanced. 

Around me, moving in the cooling breeze 

That inland soughed, with ocean's fragrance fraught. 



1 Heroa, These were mausolea, sometimes small temples, 
dedicated to heroes. 



14 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

The sad, funereal cypress waved its boughs ; 

The oiive, with its pale-green foliage, 

And Median trees, weighed down with golden fruit, 

Joined in a lowly threnody, and seemed, 

If such have song, to mourn the fallen brave. 

As when the sleepless Eviad looks forth 

And in the moonlight, from her mountain height, 

Beholds Thrace white with snow, and Rhodope 

Thronged with its troops of Maenad votaries, 

And, lost in speechless wonder, is inspired ;i 

So, in this sacred Presence, whilst I gazed 

Upon their place of life and strife and rest, 

I felt my spirit moved by Power unknown. 

And seemed to hear a voice divine that said, — 

Here is entombed the sacred dust of those 
Who, in fulfilment of their country's call. 
Took life in hand and, that the State might live, 
Sought death and gained an immortalit3\ 

Weep not for them ! For these memorial stones 
But speak the glory of the land that bore 

1 " Non secus in jugis 
Exsomnis stupet Euias 
Hebrum prospiciens et nive candidam 

Thracen ac pede barbaro 
Liistratam ilhodopen, ut mihi devio 

Kipas et vacuum nemus 
l^Iirari libet." 

Horace: OcZ. IZJ, XXV, 8. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 15 

Such heroes. A republic saved, not they, 
Requires thy tears, — surviving through such loss. 

The orb of nations evermore shall be 
Their monument^ wherever Freedom lifts 
Her awful brow, and love of country fills 
With holy flame the breast of humankind. 

Weep not for them ! They sleep in soft repose, 
In blest assurance of an endless fame ; 
Admire their deeds, envy their glorious death. 
And, like them, in thy country's need, fail not I 



V. 

Stranger than tongue can tell ! Oh, utter woe \ 
But 3'ester-eve hundreds of thousands thronged 
A mighty city ; and the ramparts, towers, 
And massive fortresses were thickly manned 
With brave defenders ; and the air was filled 
With mingled sounds of proud, of martial life, 
Of chariot crowding chariot, of the voice. 
Loud and imperious, of command, the blare 
Of brazen trumpets, clash of arms, and tramp 
Of faithful squadrons. From without there came 
The hoarse remurmuring of besieging hosts, 
Vainl}' advancing to the desperate charge, 
And the earth-shaking impact, as the wallfe 
Withstood the shock of hostile batteries. 



16 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Now, as the gray of eaii}^ twilight vi.^lds 

To morning" red, how changed is all the scene ! 

Throughout the vast-expanded maze of streets 

No living form appears ; and desolate 

Seems every home ; and, as amid the waste 

Of barren desert, awful silence reigns. 

Wh}' do the sentinels no longer hold 

Their stations on the threatened battlements ? 

Wh}' are the bulwarks reft of their defence, 

And e'en the citadel upon the hill? 

Why is nought heard within the steadfast gates, 

Save the faint murmur of the foemen's camp, 

As springing daylight wakes them to their task ? 

The catapults, halistce^^ and huge frames 
Of battering-engines that are ranged without, 
Loom up like spectres through the misty air 
To call on those within, now, now to haste 



1 The balistce — the Roman military term — were adapted to 
project heavy stones against battlements ; while the catapult 
discharged darts and other light missiles. 

The extreme range attained by the halista was about a quar- 
ter of a. mile. The more powerful machines of this sort could 
throw stones weighing three hundred- weight. 

The use of such engines seems to have been very ancient. We 
read of Uzziah (or Azariah), King of Judah (B. C. 810), that 
** he made in Jerusalem engines invented by cunning men, to 
be on the towers and on the bulwarks, to shoot arrows and great 
stones withal." — 2 Chronicles xxvi, 15. 



DAMON AXD PYTHIAS, 17 

And save the cit}' from impending fate. 
In vain ! It seems a cit}' of the dead. 

But look ! TThat giant form surmounts the wall ? 

What bold besieger in relief against 

The brightening sk}' ? His face is swart and burned 

B}^ Lj'bian suns. His glittering vestments show 

Barbaric splendor as of Afric's clime. 

He gazes on the scene of loneliness 

And, quickly turning, shouts in unknown tongue 

To those without. Up climb two savage Gauls ; 

And then, with warlike cry and lifted spear, 

Iberians, Lusitanians, Cantabri, 

Campanians, dusky^ Lybians, and the hordes 

Of every region and of ever}' race, 

Swarm through the open portals and invade 

The silent ways, and, as the lightning rush 

Of torrent bursting from some alpine cliff, 

Overthrow before them all that can oppose, 

And with swift desolation waste the town. 

The gathered wealth of nations is their spoil. 
Unawed by sacred things, with step profane. 
They violate the temples of the gods. 
The image of divinity within 
Confronts them as they enter ; but alas ! 
The steel, stern-hearted, thirsting for its prey, 
Pollutes the holy places with the blood 



18 DAMOX AND PYTHIAS. 

Of helpless thousands hid in refuge vain, 

Thej^ spare nor age nor sex ; but everj'where 

Are plunder, rapine, and the cries of death, 

With mutilated bodies of the slain. 

Such was the fall of Acragas ;^ and thus 

The Carthaginian army, that beneath 

The ensigns of Himilco, — Hannibal 

Its other chief, — three hundred thousand strong, 

Crossed o'er from Lybia in certain hope 

Of making conquest of Trinacria, 

Sees half its work accomplished. 

Far away. 
Slow moving on the wearj' road which leads 
To Gela, throngs with slow and painful step 
A countless host that in the midnight hour 
Left the doomed city, and, in fearful flight, 
Abandoned all in hope of saving life. 
On, on they move, that population vast 
Of wretched exiles, not the strong alone, 
But gentle dames who sigh at thought of toil, 
With tender nursehngs cursed by Ate's breath ; 
The halt, the wounded, and those bowed with age 
Or sickness. Common woe unites the mass ; 
The helper and the holpen are as one 
The fair morn spreading on the mountain-tops 
Is unto them as evening's gathering gloom. 

1 See Appendix C. 



DAMON AIs'D PYTHIAS, 19 

When will they e'er again behold their homes ? 

In what far region will the lot be cast ? 

What Power invoked, attend their wa^^faring? 

Onward, for miles and miles, the unnumbered throng 

Extends, funereal as the gloomy shades 

Descending to the hateful Stygian flood ; 

While here and there, half seen through the dense 

cloud 
Of swirling dust, appears the gleam of arms. 
Close in the rear, to cover the long line 
From the pursuit of a victorious foe. 
Thousands of hoplites^ march in serried ranks. 

Now there were portion of a numerous force 

That SjTacusse earl}^ sent to help 

Her sister city ; guessing well that should 

So rich a prize fall to the invader's spoil, 

Her own fair homes would next become his aim. 

Returning to my native land, I saw 

The mustering of this army of relief, 

And, led by love of country, joined its ranks ; 

Then, honored with the post of chili arch, '^ 

Took part in all the fortunes of the war ; 

So did I witness much whereof I write. 

1 Hoplites. These were heavy-armed foot-soldiers, who fought 
with a long spear and a large shield, o-nXov, whence the name. 

2 The chiliarch commanded ahont a thousand (1,024) men. 



20 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

And why did the great cit}^ fall? By art 
Aiivd nature she had seemed so doubl}' strong 
That to assail her walls were hopeless task ; 
Her sons were numberless as are the sands 
Upon the shore ; e'en as the ruddy stream 
Of Tagus or Pactolus ^ was their wealth ; 
And as their wealth, so their magnificence. 
Truly Empedocles,^ our Brother, said, 
" They built as if they were to live for aye ; 
They lived as though to-morrow were life's end.'* 
She had most timely warning. Both by land 
And sea she gathered strength to meet the shock ; 
Her granaries were filled ; her troops were brave 
And man3^ With her, from the first assault, 
Had been good fortune by the help of God : 
The enemy's fierce onset was repulsed ; 
Then the besieged, outsallying from the ports, 
Drove back the foe and fired the battering-train ; 

1 The Pactolus was a river of Lydia, whoso waters were 
believed to flow with golden sands. The Tagns, Po, Hebrus 
and Ganges had the same repute. 

'^ Empedocles was a Pythagorean philosopher of Acragas, born 
about B. C. 450. Distinguished also as a physician and poet. 
After the capture of Acragas by the Carthaginians he went to 
the Peloponnesus and there died. The Agrigentines appear to 
have deserved the full force of his hon mot. According to 
Diodorus, their luxury was such that in the height of the Car- 
thaginian siege a public decree was made that no one on guard 
at night should have more than one bed, one tent, one woollen 
blanket, and two pillows. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 21 

And when the Carthaginians broke down 

The sepulchres in which reposed the dead, 

And sought to use in structure of their works 

The marble of the lofty monument 

Wherein the body of King Theron slept, 

A thunderbolt from heaven rent the tomb ! ^ 

Forthwith religious terror filled the camp, 

The shades of those disturbed appeared by night ; 

And then a fatal pestilence destro3'ed 

Thousands on thousands of their wicked host. 

Xow, too, were seen afar in crimson ranks 

Our army of relief from Syracuse,^ 

Driving before them the barbarian hordes. 

Amid resounding shouts of '-^ XaioErE^''^ 

We pressed within the gates and joined our friends. 

Thus far all things were faring well. But now, 
Alas ! the sun of our prosperity, 
Before so bright, moved in its downward course. 
The valor of our troops and the allies, 

1 Such is the not iraprohable statement of Diodorus. After- 
wards Himilco forbade the further demolition of the sepulchres, 
and according to the custom of his country, sacrificed a boy 
to Cronus (Saturn), und cast into the sea a number of human 
victims as offerings to Poseidon. 

2 This army, with reinforcements from Gela and Camarina, 
consisted of 80,000 infantry and 5,000 cavalry. A fleet of fifty 
galleys proceeded along the coast to co-operate with the land 
forces. 

3 Greek, — '' Welcome." 



22 DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 

So often tried on many a hard-fought field, 
Was worthy of no cause less high than this ; 
The cause itself, of champions not less true. 
But what availed our cause, and what availed 
Its gallant votaries, while treachery 
And traitorous strategy, that futile made 
Our strength, prevailed, and stern necessity, 
That mocks the plans of man, through instruments. 
Venal and base, yet powerful to command, 
Had willed our fall ? 

Until the latest hour, 
Amid disasters that in baleful train 
Quick followed one another, and ths strange 
Inaction of our generals, we hoped 
For victory. Our hope, alas ! was vain. 
But why recount the story of our fall ? 
How, at our coming, every chief, save one, 
Of Acragas, convict of having sought 
To palter with the enemy, was swept 
Away, his just reward to claim in death ; ^ 

1 The principal charge against the Agrigentine generals was 
that they had refused to attack the Carthagenian fugitives at 
the time of the victorious Syracusan advance. 

According to Diodorus, the Agrigentines having met in assem- 
bly immediately after the arrival of the Syracusans, were ad- 
dressed by one Menes, a Camarinosan officer, who arraigned 
the commanders of Acragas with violence, so exasperating the 
people that the accused could not be heard in their own belialf. 
Four of them were at once stoned to death by the enraged mul- 
titude; the fifth, Arg3ius, was spared on account of his youth. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 23 

How all the leaders Syracusse sent, 

Among whom was Daphnasus, were believed 

To be corrupted with barbaric gold 

And secretl}^ our overthrow to plot ; 

How futile were the means whereby they feigned 

To battle with the bold invader's ranks ; 

How much b}^ conflicts ill-advised they lost, 

And how b^^ inactivity, much more ; 

How by the hostile squadron prize was made 

Of vessels bringing food for our relief, 

And famine drove us from the fated walls. 

Let other lips than mine the tale repeat 
Of those dark days ; the memoiy alone 
Were sad enough to patriotic heart 
Without relation, though events more sad 
And still more hurtful to the public weal 
Were nigh at hand. 

Onward the unnumbered throng 
Slow moves o'er loft}^ mountain and the waste 
Of sultry plain. No rest and no delay 
For the outwanderers, as with feebler step, 
Weary and wayworn, smitten by the breath 
Of the sirocco, — laden with the heat 
O'er the broad ocean borne from sun- trod realms 
Of Afric deserts, — and b}" thirst consumed, 
And famine, Gela's sheltering walls they seek, 
And Syracuse. 



24 DAMON AXD PYTHIAS. 

VI. 

Ah ! what a panic fear 
Was spreading now throughout Trinacria ! 
What multitudes were surging through our gates 
Haply to find a refuge from the storm 
Without I How many even left our shores 
And in Italia secure remained 
Until the tempest should be overpast ! 
What indignation justly filled the breast 
Of every Sj'racusan when he heard 
The dark recital of calamity 
And learned the conduct of the faithless chiefs ! 
How quickly uprose all, and, grasping sword 
And spear, with dauntless hearts prepared to meet 
Amain the merciless and savage foe ! 

But what to do ? And who should lead us forth ? 

On this seemed hinging our republic's fate. 

And so the crier proclamation made 

That the whole body of our citizens 

Should meet together in ecclesia^^ 

And, duly hearing, in their sovereign power 

Whate'er the public good required decree. 

1 The ecclesia was a general assembly of the citizens, in whicls 
they met in their sovereign power to debate and determine upoR 
such matters of public interest as might come before them 
These assemblies were either ordinary or extraordinary. The 
present ecclesia was specially convened. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 25 

VII. 
A silence as of darkest midnight stilled 
The vast assembly ; for the destiny 
Of thousands upon thousands seemed to rest 
Upon some word unspoken ; while the past, 
The present, and the future of the State 
Were waiting for the moment when the voice 
Of some true patriot, gifted with the power 
Of knowledge and the power of eloquence. 
Should be uplifted, and with trumpet-sound 
Proclaim, whether for weal or woe, the truth. 
For here were met the wisest and the best 
Of Sjracusse, — veterans well versed 
And tried in dark and complicate affairs, 
The sages who had always guided well 
In times of danger. Who of these grave men 
Would foremost claim respectful audience ? 

Long, long we waited ; then, at last, we saw. 
Slowly uprising, one before unknown, — 
Unknown at least to me ; almost unknown 
To all, save two or three who greeted him. 
And in acclaim hailed Dionysius.^ 
" But stop ! Shall he, a youth, a stripling, speak 
Before his elders? He, a beggar scribe. 
Fresh from the public office, counsel those 

1 See Appendix D. 



26 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Who roll in wealth and power imperial ? " 
Listen ! He mounts the bema^^ and, with eye 
That flashes like the noonday bright, begins : — 

' ' Syracusans ! If learning, wealth, age, rank, 

Or glorious service in the commonwealth. 

Or Eloquence divine, with golden mouth, 

Could add unto the words of him who speaks 

The simple truth, and faithfall}^ proclaims 

Our perils and the duties of the hour, 

I, with becoming modesty, would sit 

In silence. But the knowledge of our ills,' 

And of their guiltj^ causes, is not far 

To seek. Nor were it difficult to tell 

What patriotic duty bids us do ; 

Nor matters it by whom, or in what words. 

So that in drastic shape the truth appear. 

" Menaced by self-same dangers, all alike, 
Whether in council or on battle-field. 
Must labor for our threatened fatherland. 
Unmindful of false titles that too oft. 
Amid the easj^, sluggish flow of peace, 
Have marred our democratic polity. 
Then I, among the 3'oungest and the least 
Of those here gathered, Dionj'sius, 

1 The hema was a raised platform from which the speakers 
addressed the assembly. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 27 

Son of Hermocrates and citizen 

Of Sj'racusae. and, as such, 3'our peer, 

May claim with deference the right to speak, 

Both for myself and for the common folk. 

Such things as long ago should have been said. 

'' Still lives our commonwealth, illustrious 

In honor, dignit}', and in the fame 

Of her ancestral freedom ; but alas ! 

Her life seems bounded by the speeding hour, 

Except your instant foresight, wisdom, will. 

Swiftly transferred to action, shall avail. 

The blood}" ensigns of the cruel foe, 

From victory to victory advanced, 

And coming ever nearer to our gates. 

Are raised above the great metropolis 

Of Acragas, which next to Syracuse 

Was the most famous in Trinacria. 

Selinus, Himera, and Acragas, 

Each in its turn, have fallen ! We almost 

Alone survive the ruin of our land. 

Against our walls, our homes, and sacred fanes, 

Will now advance the grim barbarian hordes. 

Unsparing, merciless, of humankind 

The offscouring, the refuse, and reproach. 

Those horrid scenes of ruin, rapine, death. 

Of sacrilege and crimes too great to name, 

Which, making desolate our sister-towns. 



28 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Seern as the memory of some hideous dream, 

Ilavmg no counterpart in real things, 

Ma}^ soon, too soon, be witnessed bj^ ourselves. 

Act instantl3% O men of Syracuse ! 

From such dread fate our common country save ! 

With noble purpose, living to be free, 

Oar lives to jield before our liberties, 

Let us go forth to meet the hostile wave 

Already curving to its thunderous fall ! 

'' But lo ! there sit the authors of our ills ! 

Within this solemn gathering I behold 

The very men who caused these fearful woes ! 

The very chiefs, with sinful gold corrupt. 

Who come with blood-stained hands from Acragas, 

And dare obtrude themselves within this presence ! 

There are the dark-souled traitors whose misdeeds 

Call now for retribution swift and sure ! 

" They enter here and tarrj^ with the brand 
Of wicked, heinous crime upon their brows. 
The death of those, our fellow-citizens, 
Who fell as victims of this treacher^^ ; 
The utter desolation of the host 
Which, hopeless of relief, has left the homes 
Of Acragas to crowd within our gates ; 
This terror and despair ; the storm of war 
That beats upon our walls ; this urgent need 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. . 21) 

Of meeting in assembly to avert 

The greatest danger in our historj^, — 

For all this let them answer with their lives ! 

For treason less than this the citizens 

Of Acragas in fury stoned to death 

Their own commanders. Then shall these escape 

The fearful doom that justly waits a traitor ? 

Ay ! now and here, O men of Syracuse, 

Fulfil the call of our outraged State ! 

For long delays of law wait not, wait not 

For process and slow hearing, but forthwith, 

No more respecting legal forms, proceed 

To execute our vengeance and destroy 

These foul betrayers of the countrj-'s cause ! 

Seize them, and kill them ! Let them not escape ! " 

As, when the storm-clouds hurry o'er the main, 
The pleasant, sheening day is swept away ; 
And dark sea- waves are whitened b}^ the blast 
And lifted to the skies, and hurricanes 
Yt'helm in the roaring surge the laboring bark 
That erst in steady course was voj' aging on. 
So as the words to vengeance urging fell 
Upon our common people, always quick 
The swiftest means to grasp, albeit rude, 
To right the public wrongs, and here alert 
And eager that some one among themselves 
Should boldly utter what their hearts desired, 



30 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

They rose with outcries, and in haste of hate 
Assailed the guilty generals, and strove 
To take their lives. The Archons and all such 
As ranked among the Great Ones of the State, — 
Save two or three, the friends of him who spake, — 
The kinsmen and the opulent compeers 
Of the accused, opposing force to force, 
Yet with unequal strength, resistance made. 
Threatenings of vengeance, shouts of death were 

heard ; • 
Contending throngs commingled in a strife 
That, 'mid the rage of swelling conflict, armed 
The maddened hand of brother against brother, 
The son against the son of Syracuse. 
What frenz}^ in our nation's histor}" 
Before unknown ! What wild delirium 
Of passion ! Solemn augury of days 
That were too soon to come ! As messenger 
Divinely sent to mark the end of life 
And shadow forth the crossing of the stream 
Whose sluggish flow may never be repassed, 
This woe unspeakable arose, the hope 
And promise of our State to scofl* and mock. 

At last the tumult and contention ceased, 
Reason held swa}^ ; but of the generals, — 
So sudden was their doom, — but two remained ; 
The others, eight in number, quickly made 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 31 

Full exi^iation of all crimes, in death, 
Even as Dionysius had required. 

Forthwith the Archons who presided, bound 

B}^ oath of office to maintain the laws. 

To punish the infraction then and there, 

As best they could, amid the general strife. 

Declared of Dionysius the offence 

As a disturber of the public peace ; 

And in consideration of his crime 

Imposed on him a penalty to pay — 

Because their power no farther might extend — 

Of seven gold talents to the public use. 

Then uprose one Philistus,^ who in wealth 
Held rank among the foremost in the State, 
And said : — 

" Archons and men of Sj'racuse ! 
I here produce and pay the fine imposed. 

^ Philistus was born at Syracuse in the year B. C. 431, and 
was accordingly of the same age as Dionysius. He studied at 
Athens under Isocrates. At first in high favor witli Dionysius, 
he was afterwards banished by him. Having been recalled 
from banishment by Dionysius the Younger, he lost his life in 
defending him against Dion (358). 

Philistus wrote a history of Syracuse, including the events of 
the reign of Dionj^sius the Elder. He also wrote a life of Dio- 
nysius the Younger. Cicero and Quint ilian rank him with 
Thucydides, but his works are lost. This is the more unfor- 
tunate because the two Dionysii are sovereigns of whom we 
know little save from their enemies. 



32 DAMOX AND PYTHIAS. 

It were unjust that he who freely spake 

So truthfull}^ upon the grave offence 

Of traitors, recreant to their solemn trust, 

Who wafted them unto a traitor's doom 

By zealous words which showed his reckless love 

Of freedom and his hate of treachery. 

Should so be silenced. From m}" ample means 

Into the public treasury- 1 pay 

That which to him in povert}' is denied. 

Let him continue ! Let him frankly tell 

The dangers and the duties of the hour. 

May the great gods inspire him, without fear 

To give wise counsel in the times of need, 

And to his thoughts a ready utterance lend ! 

Let him go boldlj^ on, as he began. 

This let him do, and though such penalties 

Should fall upon him through the livelong day, 

Till sinks the sun beyond those western hills, 

I — I engage to pay them to the State." 

And then was Dionysius by these words 
Urged on to speak in boldness what he would. 
And in unseeml}' phrase, 3'et well adapt 
To gain the sympathy and stir the souls 
Of those who listened to his bitter words. 
Showered as swift arrows on our many faults 
Of statecraft and of public management. 
He sought approval of the doom of them 
That fell as victims of the people's rage. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 33 

And then, in energetic speech, alleged 
The causing cause of our calamities : — 

That our impending woes were but the fruit 

Of false administering of our affairs 

By wealthy men, and by autocrat ors, 

Who, in subversion of true policy, 

And to perpetuate long-settled power. 

Forever sought the Commons to exclude 

From any portion in the public charge ; 

And thus, while private fortunes were enlarged, 

Matters of highest moment, which required 

The help of all, received the aid of none ; 

And thus disasters overwhelmed the State. 

Striving were these men for plutocracy, 

Denying to the honorable poor 

Official station or regard or name. 

From this had sprung the source of gravest ills. 

That they alone should be put in command 

And fill the offices of peace and war, 

Who were distinguished, not by wealth or rank, 

But by devotion to the common weal. 

The ii»}h and titled, conscious of their power. 

And holding all beneath them in contempt. 

Would at the pubUc cost new treasures gain, 

And recklessly conduct affairs of State, 

While men of little fortune, yet inspired 

With patriotic purpose, — having nought 



34 DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 

To shield them in wrong-doing, or promote 
Their welfare, or make glorious their name. 
Save a repute for honesty and zeal, — 
Would well and faithfully perform the trust. 
He sought not for preferment, hut should they, 
The common people, of whom he was one, 
Or such as he had blamed, in time require 
His aid in conduct of the State's defence, 
Then or thereafter, he would welcome death 
Before defeat or treason to his charge. 

These reasonings, with others of such sort 
As well might please the many, were set forth 
By Dionysius. After him his friends 
Philistus and one Hipparinus spake. 

And then the populace in wild acclaim. 
Thrusting aside the warnings Prudence gave. 
At once raised Dionysius to the Board 
Of Generals, and him, with others, put 
In joint authority o'er all the troops. 

Thus from the surge of desolating war, 

Bursting with dreadful force upon the land. 

And from the bitter strife within our gates. 

And slaying of our fellow-citizens, — 

As from Medusa's blood the winged steed, 

As Aphrodite from the foaming wave. 

This man, before unknown, had sprung to power. 



DAMON AND PY2HIAS. 35 

CANTO II. 

ARGUMENT. 

CAI.LISTE, the home of Pythias, described. An interview 
between Pythias and Dione, his wife, on the eve of the 
former's departure for Syracuse. — Dionysius artfully gains 
the good- will of the Sj^racusans, and, finally, after pro- 
curing the removal of his associates in command, is ap- 
pointed generalissimo. Thereupon, having obtained for- 
mal authority to keep a body-guard, he leads the Syracusan 
army against the Carthaginians — The treasonable pur- 
pose of Dionysius, to make himself tyrant, discovered; 
sudden return of Damon, Pythias, and others to Sj'racuse. 
They exclude Dionysius, from the city. Attempt of the 
latter to enter by force. A midnight battle at the gate of 
Achradina. The assailants, having destroyed this gate by 
fire, occupy the town and overcome all resistance. Py- 
thias, after conducting a most heroic defence, is wounded 
and thought to be slain. Damon is captured, condemned 
to death, and committed to the prison of Lithotomise. — 
Dionysius, Tyrant of Syracuse. 

I. 

Far from our city's turmoil and its wealth 
Of splendor, on the margin of a stream 
Whose tranquil flow, pure, liquid silver, glides^ 

1 ** S'alcun giammai tra frondeggianti rive 
Puro vide stagnar liquido argento." 

Tasso : G. i., Canto XIII, LX. 



36 DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 

Unto the shore that greets the rudd}' glow 

Of sprhigmg morn, to find its ocean-grave, 

Stands a fair cottage, the abode of peace 

And happiness. Calliste was it named. 

And truly does it seem to be a home 

Of beauty ; as that far-off, shining isle 

B}' Delos crowned, amid the JEgean main.^ 

With many a tendril o'er its whited walls 

Cluster the purple honors of the yine ; 

And mingling with their shade, the laurel wayes 

Aboye the doorway and the rudely caryed 

Apollo, emblem of the radiant god.^ 

Here bloom soft hyacinths and yiolets pale, 

The tamarisk and saffron marigold ; 

And, pure and calm, beneath the chequered woof 

Which glooms the streamlet's marge, the lily sleeps. 

Here daffodils retain a tear for Him^ 

Whom, robed in fatal beaut}'. Echo sought 

In hopeless loye ; while murmuring wood and fount 

Recall the memory of her yanished form. 

The crimson glory of the scented rose 

Is scattered o'er the greensward, and the gold 



1 The island of CaHiste ("most heautifuV^)^ known later as 
Thera. 

2 In front of a Greek house not infrequently stood some em- 
blem of Apollo Agyieus; The laurel was sacred to him. 

8 Narcissus. 



DAMOJ^ Ay^D PYTHIAS. 37 

Laburnum and althea's purple hue, 

And thyme to which the wanderhig bees oft roam 

From Hybla's lofty height. ^ 

On either side 
The streamlet, from its brink, where wildly flowers 
The oleander, to the distant plain 
Which bears lentiscus, with its fragrant bole 
O'ershadowed b}^ the palm-tree's giant leaves, 
And rocky crag where the lone cactus grows, — 
A bosky canop}^, forever crowned 
With deathless verdure,^ clothes the gladsome earth 
In varied charms, and makes, beneath its bowers, ■ 
A milder sunlight and a sky more blue. 

And 'mid thick, arching foliage, in relief. 
Glimmers the yellow of the ripening fruit, — 
Fruit such as, warded by Night's daughters, erst 
Shone bright in garden of Hesperides.^ 

Lo ! To the westward, seen o'er yon dark glen. 
The vast, majestic domes of mountains rise, 

1 There were three Hyblas in ancient Sicily; one (now Pateriio) 
in the east part of the island, northwest of Catana; Hybla minor 
or Hersea, southeast of Catana, celebrated for its honey, which 
rivalled that of Mt. Hymettus, — to-day, Calatagirone; and Hybla 
parva, afterwards Megara, on the southeast coast near Syracuse. 
Hj'bla minor is here referred to. 

2 The islands of the Hesperides were placed on the western 
confines of the world. Here the daughters of Hesperis, three 



38 DAMO:^ AND PYTHIAS. 

Reaching to heaven and bordering on the stars. 
When, midwaj", drives athwart their dizzy slope 
The racking mist, their massive tops do seem 
In fancy to the startled ej^e of him 
Who gazes, always to fall, j'et falling not. 
There, since the world began, have ever stood 
Those everlasting ramparts, reared by hand 
Of Nature. 

As slow sinks the orb of day 
Bej'ond their summits, tlie empurpled clouds 
Long glowing, bathed in saddened light, appear 
As the last smile of one beloved, who dies.^ 

And thither look, where, miles on miles away, 
Yet seeming near in this pellucid air. 
Looms Etna's grisl}^ and stupendous form.^ 

or seven in number, guarded the golden apples which Giea gav^e 
to Hera on the day of her marriage with Zeus. 

Ovid represents that the leaves and branches of the garden, 
as well as its fruit, were of gold : — 

" Arborese frondes, auro radiante nitentes 
Ex auro ramos, ex auro poma ferentes.'* 
One of the twelve labors imposed on Hercules was to obtain 
these golden apples. 

1 ** Oui, dans ces jours d'automne ou la nature expire 
A ses regards voile's je trouve plus d'attraits; 
C'est r adieu d'un ami, c'est le dernier sourire 
Des levres que la mort va fermer pour jamais/' 

Lamartine: L'Automne, 
2 See Appendix A. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 39 

Alone it stands, and frowns o'er land and sea. 
The fertile, swelling fields, which gird its base 
And, fearful, clamber on its rock-bound sides, 
Shrink back from bleak and thunder-rifted heights, 
Crusted and iron-like, worn by fire and ice. 
By wind and tempest, through the centuries. 

Ever above it whirls a rolling dun 
Of smoke, winnowed and stoim-tossed by the gale ; 
Ever, 'mid darkness, plumed by spires of flame. 
It towers a beacon to the coming dawn. 

Now greater shadows mark the evening hour, 
While yet the sun, unwillmg to depart. 
Lingers in cloudland and upon the hills. 
The painted birds no longer charm the ear 
Of him who tarries in this blest retreat. 
With chant and carol blithe and liquid trill. 
Only the lonely nightingale is heard. 



II. 

Ah ! who is she that o'er the threshold comes, 

And, on the pearly ashes of the day 

Bereft of all its life of sunshine, looks 

In thoughtful sadness toward the fading west ? 

Is it a tear, betraying silently 

Some grief tmtold, that gathers 'neath her brow? 



40 DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 

Does one so lovely mourn amid these scenes 
Of beaut}^, thereof she, the fairest gem, 
Seems as the living utterance and the soul? 

Deep-crimson cheeks to which the rose is pale, 

And coral lips to mock Love's burning sigh, 

A wealth of waving tresses, half embraced 

By fillet wrought of blue inlaced with gold, 

Bright eyes, full orbed, whose dark 3^et lustrous 

depths 
Reveal the fate of all on whom they gaze, 
A j'outhful form, of ravishing contour. 
Unfolded by Sicilia's genial skies, 
Commingle in the rounded charms of her, 
The matchless pride of him whose own she is. 

And he, whose bride she is, now comes without 

And stands beside her. In his noble form 

Are gracefulness and glow of manh^ strength, 

And martial port that fittingly beseems 

The knightly hero of the battle-field. 

And in his heart burns bright a quenchless flame. 

Whence, full displayed in word and deed, doth spring 

The never-failing tenderness wherewith 

He worships her, the worshipper of him. 

Here hath she found her longing soul's desire ; 

And to its cherished presence closer clings 

Than doth the mantling ivy to the oak. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 41 

With mutual gaze, bespeaking mutual love, 
Together, hand in hand, the}" wend their way 
To rustic seat that by the streamlet's marge 
Invites to pleasing rest. And there embraced 
By his fond arms, she says with tearful sigh : — 

'•And must to-morrow, P3'thias, bring the hour 
When thou wilt leave me, — homeless, save with thee ? 
Shall these affairs of state forever rend 
The happy tissues of our household joj^s ? 
This night were an El}' slum to me, — 
Ay ! every fleeting moment, crowned with bliss. — 
Save that o'er-envious time too soon doth speed 
Our parting." 

'' Sad to me, Dione, is 
The rayless sunlight that looks not on thee 
Beside me ; hard it is to part from her 
For whom my soul in absence maketh moan. 
Thou, best-beloved, art the guiding star 
To me of life and being. Thy fair form 
Preserves its imaged throne on battle-field, 
By camp-fire, and amid the toilsome march 
Through desert waste, in dreams and everywhere. 
But now once more this sorrow comes. Again, 
As shrills the loud-tongued trumpet, must I hence. 
But, that performed which sacred duty bids, 
I '11 haste to lay my laurels at thy feet. 
My heart distraught by separation, yet 



42 DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 

Unmoved by change of time or place, is thine. 

And thou, Dione, as in the happy hour 

When we came one, wouldst not forsake ih.j choice ? " 

'^ Ah ! Pythias, ever}^ bliss that home can give 
Without thee is in vain , for that thou art 
Mj' all in all of everj^ inmost ]oj. 
For such as thou I sighed e'er I had found 
Thee : but when found, that all my former life 
Was passed without the fulness of thy love. 
That which thou art to me, mj soul knows well, — 
' Faithful — as is the shepherd's watchful pride, 
True — as the helm the bark's protecting guide, 
Firm — as the shaft that props the towering dome, 
Sweet — as to shipwrecked seamen land and home, 
Lovelj^ — as child, a parent's sole delight. 
Radiant — as morn that breaks a stormy night. 
Grateful — as streams, that in some deep recess 
With rills unhoped the panting traveller bless. 
Is he that links to mine his chain of life. 
Names himself lord and deigns to call me wife.'"^ 

''Forever, fair Dione, may high heaven 
Preserve thee in its charge ! For aj^e 

1 ^schylus : Agamemnon, 896-901 (Dindorf s text). 

This paraphrase was originally published in England in the 
Quarterly Eeview. The name of the author is unknown. The 
annotator trusts that the beauty of the lines may, to some ex- 
tent, tend to justify the anomaly of their insertion here. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 43 

May the firm bond of mutual love unite 

Our hearts in one ! No greater boon I ask, 

Nor greater blessing could the God bestow. 

Though hard the fate that I must from thee part, 

Leaving these happy scenes for war and strife, 

Yet comes the hour — such is my heartfelt prayer — 

When every danger threatening to the State 

Shall in the past be merged, and soon again 

Our days with J03" be crowned, our nights with bliss. 

But while the foe is hurrying to our gates 

The patriot son of Syracuse must stand 

As watchful sentinel at duty's post. 

To-morrow, then, a sad farewell to thee, 

And to our children, sunlight of our home, 

Whose prattluig child-life, happy as their dreams, 

Knows not the cloud that makes our pathway dark. 

Remember me in absence, who shall e'er 

Within my heart of hearts remember them 

Without whose love that heart would cease to beat/' 



ni. 

But now, my Philadelphus, came the hour 
When hapless after-wit might hope in vain 
To wrestle with a peril to the State 
More fearful than the murky cloud of war 
Still battening o'er the spoils of Acragas. 
Sa^d hour for Syracusan liberty ! 



44 DAMOj^ AJ^'D PYTHIAS. 

Not to her freeborn sons upon the foe 
Advancing, pointed ruthlessl}' and stern 
Its index-finger, but on men bowed down 
Beneath a t^Tanny whose giant strength 
O'ermastered both their fortunes and their lives. 

Fools ! they that saw not danger ever clear ; 
And worse than folly ! that to him who wrought 
Their ruin they had rashly given that 
Whereby his horrid treason was made sure. 

IIow well do I recall the glorious daj^ 

When our new leaders in command brought forth, 

With martial pomp, the flower of S3Tacuse ! 

As w^ere reviewed the endless, glittering ranks 

Filled with heroic purpose and inspired 

With hope of victor}", proud swelled the breasts 

Of those who gazed, and all to come seemed bright. 

The humble artisan, returning home. 

Greeted his household with a happier smile ; 

The child in mimic war-play was more brave ; 

The veteran, bent with j'ears, was 3'oung again 

In pleasant reminiscence of the past : 

The mother clasped her babe, now reassured 

That freedom and not bondage was its lot. 

How fair the mocking fabric ! soon, too soon, 
To crumble, perish, and to fade away ; 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 45 

As when in dreams the fainting traveller views 
A waving verdure and pure living streams, 
And wakes amid the boundless desert waste. 



IV. 

Three months have passed since that tumultuous day 

When Dionysius was so quickly raised 

To sit among his elders in the Board 

Of Generals. But since he took command 

He has, despite his boastful promises, 

Done nought except to aggrandize his power. 

Increase his following, and make clear the way 

For that which only when too late is known. 

No sooner, aided by the popular breeze 
Of favor quick excited by his art, 
Was he securely fixed in leadership. 
Than all the exiles who aforetime sought 
Under Hermocrates ^ to overthrow 
Our democratic sj^stem, were recalled. 
These were his old-time comrades and allies, 
Ingrained with hatred of our polit3\ 

But Dionysius making fair pretence 
That they, subordinate to his control, 

1 Not the Hermocrates previously mentioned. Dionysius af- 
terwards married the daughter of the one here named. 



46 DAMON A^D PYTUIAS. 

Would help to serve against the common foe, 

The people let them come within the gates. 

Then boldly from the outset he jproclaimed, 

Both in our public meetings and without, 

That his associates in joint command. 

Men older than himself and better tried, 

Were traitors to the cause, and so refused 

To meet in conference with them or lend aid 

In any of their plans of strategy. 

Such crimination, oft repeated, gained 

An easy credit with the multitude. 

Who now, in verj^ truth, believed that he 

Alone was faithful to the jDublic trust. 

On all save him they looked with scorn ; on him 

With pride as one that owed his rank to them, 

Their spokesman and the champion of their rights, 

A man most watchful of their interests, 

The hope and mainstay of our liberties. 

So each ensuing day made him more great, 

And more bemasked his crafty purposes. 

Erelong with separate command he marched 

To Gela and there tarried for a while. 

Near bj^ was camped the enemy in force ; 

Yet not against the foe was his advance. 

Two factions were there of Geloans, — one, 
Of wealthy men composed ; the other, ranged 
In bitter opposition, of the poor. 



DAMON AND P YTIIIAS. 4 7 

But Dionysius took the part of those 
Of no estate, and through a form of vote 
Condemnatory of the richer class, 
Whom he accused of treason, put to death 
The sons of fortune and confiscate made 
Their property. The money so acquired 
He lavishly bestowed throughout his camp 
And on the common people of the town. 

On every side his praise was loudly told ; 
The glad Geloan Demos voted thanks 
In commendation of his services. 
And swiftly sent the vote to Syracuse 
By special envoys. 

*T was a stated day 
Of yearly festival in Syracuse, 
When Dionysius, as if triumphing. 
Returned in fitting time to meet the wild 
And heartfelt greeting of the populace, 
Elated by the words that Gela sent. 

From out the theatre a countless throng 

Was pouring down the hillside as he came. 

With loud huzzas they welcomed him. They pressed 

Around and eagerly besought how fared 

Himilco and the Carthaginians. 

To every one his answer was the same : — 



48 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

'' Speak not to me of foreign foes ; j'our foes 
Within, those chieftains whom with me 3^ou placed 
To lead j'our armies, are more deadly far 
Than such as muster in the open field. 
To me through secret envoy was it told 
By him whose ensigns soon are to advance. 
Against oar walls, that as my i3rice of guilt, 
Vrauld I but let m}^ colleagues do their will, 
A greater portion should be mine than theirs. 
Crushed both by this and other cogent proof 
That mj' associates would betray the State, 
I scorn to sta}' within their fellowship. 
To-morrow, at the public gathering, 
To you and them I yield my public trust." 

Nor idle was his threat ; for on the daj^ 
Ensuing, this grave charge, with mau}^ more, 
Was made b}" him before the citizens 
For common counsel in assembly" met. 
Filled was the multitude with bitter rage 
Against the men he charged with treachery ; 
But outciies of expostulation, fear, 
Quick followed, when the chief they held to be 
Their only refuge, faithful to his word. 
Yielded to them, its givers, his command. 

This might not be ! With acclamations loud, 
Thrusting from place the other generals, 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 49 

In him alone they vested leadership, 

And granted him therein fall power to act. 

Thereon he moved the passing of a vote 

Whereby the soldiers should be doubl}- paid ; 

And this, not without gain to him, secured, 

He summoned our whole military strength 

To be prepared to march in his command 

Leontini ; for what purpose none 

Could tell. Xot all went forth ; but those alone 

Who seemed more friendl}^ to himself. With them 

He i^itched his camp beneath the Leontine walls 

And near the citadel. When came the noon 

Of night, his trusty intimates and he, 

With outcries loud and hurr3'ings to and fro. 

Excited through the ranks a false alarm ; 

And while the ^rmj. doubtful and confused. 

Was filled with fear, he and his friends retired, 

As if for safety, to the citadel. 

Thence issuing at the dawn, he wide proclaimed 

That enemies within the camp had sought 

His life and failed by reason of his flight ; 

And wounds he showed in token of his words. 

Those in collusion with him told the same. 

Then feigning that the troops about him formed — 

As only all within his lev}' might — 

A lawfully sufficient gathering, 

Together with the rabble of the town, 



50 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

To act as an assembl}^ of the State, 
Of them he boldty asked, and had conferred 
By formal vote, the power to keep retained 
Six hundred veterans as a body-guard. 
Enlisting twice the number, he delayed 
No longer, but with his whole force returned 
To S^Tacuse. There he remained secure 
Behind Ortygia's massive battlements =^ 

From us who had opposed the grant of power 
To him alone, now murmurings were heard 
Against him. Ever growing seemed his strength 
Beyond due bounds. At first a 3'outh unknown, 
He sprang at once to take the foremost rank 
Within the people's gift. Aforetime poor. 
He now was rich m Gela's blood-stained spoils. 
He shared before with others his command ; 
These gone, his sway was sole and absohite. 
He had marched forth as well became his rank, 
But now had he returned in kingl}^ pomp. 

1 Diodorus must be in error when he states that Dionysius 
began to rule immediately after his return from Leontini. This 
is obvious from the historian's subsequent statement that the 
Syracusan assembly, the ccdesiaf was in full operation at 
this period, and that to this body Dionysius was compelled to 
appeal in order to get rid of Daphnseus and Demarchus, the 
most powerful of his adversaries. One or two other facts men- 
tioned by Diodorus make it apparent that the tyranny was not 
established until after the defeat of the Syracusans at Gela. 



DAMOX AXD PYTHIAS, 51 

Much had he promised, nought had he performed. 

Ilimilco was approaching. Why did he 

Who was the common people's trusted chief 

Supinely wait our rain, and avoid 

To meet him on the battle-field, or there 

Where Gela tottered to her fall, unless. 

Not guiltless of the crime on others charged, 

Vassal of hostile gold, he only strove 

His country's life, as t^'rant, to outlive? 

Such words were uttered now not secretly. 

But openly, throughout the public ways. 

The dread of some disaster, diml}^ seen 

Yet terrible, was ever in our breasts ; 

We knew not when or whence it was come, — 

Whether from him whom we had armed with power, 

Or from the swarthy foe in open field. 

But suddenty throughout the walls is heard 
The stirring din of warlike preparation. 
For Dion3^sius, conscious that the hour 
Supreme of his ambition must delay. 
Yet fearful of inaction, gives the word, 
Commanding all our forces, both b}' land 
And sea, to put themselves in readiness 
To move at once on Gela and engage 
The enemy. 

Straightway by day and night 
Oar armorers and shipwrights ply their task. 



52 DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 

Soon, everj^thing prepared, a mighty host, 
'Mid cheering loud and far prolonged, goes forth 
In proud array and discipline complete, 
The chieftain with his life-guard in the van. 

And as they march, the brazen trumpet rings 
Its thrilling voice across the slumbering sea ; 
Then from the crowded docks, in majesty, 
'Mid tears, and prayers, and longings of the heart. 
Seaward to Cape Pachjmus, moves our fleet. 

But happier they than we who here remain 

To keep our vigil on the battlements. 

To us is weary waiting, — unto them, 

The glor}^ and the crown of victory, 

Or blissful death, if death can him befall 

Who lives forever in his country's praise. 

So do the sequent hours flow sadly on. 

And still no tidings of the absent ones. 

Until has passed that day foredoomed by fate, — 

The last of Syracusan liberty. 



The day is ended. Gathering shadows meet, 
And darkling flow o'er fading earth and sky ; 
And in the deep-blue offing, sunlit sails, 
Which latel}' gleamed afar, are lost to view. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 53 

The cloud low down, that seemed a wave-worn cape, 
Now vanishes, enwrapped in thickening gloom. 
Whilst ocean mingles with the vault of heaven. 
The lofty mountain-tops, that erst were crowned 
With tinted aureoles of splendor, wrought 
Of ever-changing, ever-dying light. 
Soon in their desolation dimly show 
Sombre and cold against the narrow west. 

The day is ended. All its wondrous sheen 
Of beauty and of glory is o'erpast 
To regions that bej^ond Hesperides 
Welcome the dayspring as we mourn its loss ; 
And Chaos' daughter, lonel}^ Night, assumes 
Her silent sceptre and her ebon throne. 

How still the crowded city ! From its homes, — 
The regal palace and the humble cot, — 
The busy marts of trade, the holy fanes 
Whence mount the incensed wreaths of sacrifice, 
Fewer and fainter come the sounds of life, 
And voices rare are heard as in a dream. 

As on the dizzy battlement I stand 

W^here grim Ortygia frowns along the deep, 

Round me is imaged an eternal rest. 

Save where the ghostly sentry walks his path, 

And far below, where moans the tideless sea, 



54 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

A black and tossing waste, heaving its surge 

Against the massive wall and shingled strand. 

What fantasy; wrought of the mournful hour, 

Dwells wraith-like in my soul's inmost. recess. 

Giving foreboding of the i^resence nigh 

Of whelming danger to our threatened State ? 

Awe is within me ! For endued I seem 

As one who, slumbering, in vision drear 

Beholds the spectral imager}^ of that 

Of evil which or is or is to be. 

And when I see the flaming daylight dead, 

It is a mj'stic tj'pe of mortal woes 

Whose stern fulfilment is e'en now at hand, — 

The laws o'erthrown, a despot put in power, 

Vanished the orb of Freedom (as the sun 

Of Heraclitus) , nevermore to shine, — 

Unless, perchance, through flow of patriot blood, 

Our children may regain what we have lost. 

But now slow mounts and peers athwart the flood 
The gibbous moon. In ever-broadening path 
Its silvery beams all-tremulous are flashed 
Across the billows as they rise and fall. 
Higher it sails, and, weltering no more 
In ocean's verge, sheds far and wide its rays. 
Again the waste of waters gleams in light. 
Ploughed b}^ the winged messengers of peace ; 
The mountain-tops stand forth like glittering snow ; 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 55 

And Syracuse with her wide-spread maze 
Of streets, her groves and coiisacrated fanes, 
And massive walls, crowned with aerial towers, 
Once more is seen as in the noonday bright. 

Rising majestic toward the eastern marge, 
Athena's temple comes again to view ; 
Borne to the sk}^ above her marbled shrine, 
In splendid and colossal effigy, 
The goddess looks forth o'er the rolling main 
And holds aloft her rounded, golden shield. 
First landmark of the inbound mariner. 
Last gazed upon by him that leaves our shore. 

How gladsome is the scene ! On distant plains 
Our brethren battle for the common cause ; 
But here is peacefulness. The life renewed 
Of whatsoe'er was beautiful before, 
Ma}^ well relieve the burden of my soul. 

But hark ! what sound is heard far, far away 

Upon the road to Gela? Ever comes 

A dull vibration borne upon the breeze. 

Be stilled the tumult of m}' wildered heart ! 

For now, the earth, as throbbing 'neath the shock 

Of numberless and onward-rushing hoofs. 

Gives forth reverberations loud and clear, 

To which the ocean waves in s^'mphony 

Make echoing response. 



56 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Now I discern 
A dim, mysterious line, — has it no end? — 
That always nearer sweeps upon its way 
To Syracuse. To arms ! I see the gleam 
Of burnished steel on which the moonbeams flash, 
And horsemen, clad in warlike panopl3^ 
To arms ! to arms ! no friendly train would fly 
In furious speed against our welcome walls. 
Fast man the battlements in breathless haste, 
And wait their coming as they swiftly spur 
Their foaming steeds ! Each one be at his post ! 
For onward, ever onward they career. 
And to Ortygia now they hold their course. 
They come ! the}^ come ! the}^ seek our landward 

gate. 
They shout to us within ; the night-guard opes 
The portal ! treacherj'? But, no ! the flower, 
The f)ride of S3Tacusan knights appear, — 
Philetus, Pj'thias, Damon, Eumenes, — 
Than whom the earth bears not more candid souls, 
Nor more heroic on the blood-stained field, — 
Dicseus, Agathon, Androsthenes, 
Nicoteles, and yet three hundred more 
That late went forth. They stay not, but surmount 
The wall and crowd upon the battlements. 
Then Pj'thias, first of all the surging throng 
Attending, cries to me, his flaming blade 
In hand, "Palaemon, wake the slumbering town 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 57 

With voice to blanch the bloodless lips of death ! 
Secure and guard the gates ! Quick, help us hold 
The ramparts ! For our homes, our children, wives, 
And liberty, the hour of peril 's nigh ! 
Call ever}' manful patriot to our aid. 
And bid him stand unmoved at dut^-'s post ! 
'Twere now no wondrous thing that they who sleep 
In yonder sacred resting-place should start 
From out their graves, — should rise to our relief 
And meet the coming of their traitor son." 

" Treason, my Pythias? " " Ay 1 a treason foul, 

Embodied in the person of our chief; 

Oar army is o'erthrown. B}^ Gela's walls 

We fought : betrayed by him, we fought in vain. 

Conspiring with the enemy, he planned 

Our ruin for his selfish ends. Not all 

Was lost when night fell on the field ; still did 

We hope the morrow would bring victory. 

'T was then he met his satellites ; with them 

He formed the purpose to return ; to them. 

As later known from spies who overheard. 

He openly proclaimed his dark design 

To make himself the lord of S^Tacuse. 

Gela and Camarina are no more ! ^ 

1 Dionysius had abandoned both of these cities to the Cartha- 
ginians. Their inhabitants accompanied the Syracnsau army 
in its retreat. 



58 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Our arm}', part corrupted by his gold, 
The rest in cloabt, was ordered to retreat ; 
And now it crowds the roads, — a woful wreck. 
Slow drifting to our walls. 

" With minds as one, 
This treason to forefend, these gallant knights 
Have ridden swiftly here, first messengers 
Of the defeat and of the purposed crime ; 
And Dionj'sius, with his bod3'-guard 
And mercenar}" horde, comes close behind, 
In hope to take the city by surprise. 
I charge thee, O Patemon, by the tie 
Of Brotherhood that knits our hearts in one, — 
And others, whom I see, — till death to stand 
And shield our freedom from its traitorous foe ! 
All I adjure b}^ love of Fatherland. 
Let some alarm the town ! let others watch 
The city gates and Achradina's wall ! 
I hasten to the Agora. Let each 
His duty find. Whether to live, or die 
For cause so just upon the battle's ridge, 
What matters it to patriotic souls ? 

'' If any false there be in such an hour. 
In flood of darkness may the nether world 
Him overwhelm ! " ^ 

1 The statement of Diodorus that the knights, while awaiting 
the arrival of Dionysius, were guilty of committing grave ex- 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 59 

As when from cloudless sky, 
Whilst all things sleep beneath a noontide sun, 
And not a breath disturbs the pendent leaf, 
Out flashes quick the riving bolt of Zeus, 
And rolls the billowing thunder, peal on peal. 
And man and beast affrighted, trembling stand. 
Or sink to earth, — so when we hear these words 
Proclaiming that the fatal hour is come, 
Lost in amazement, we are reft of speech 
And filled with unknown dread. 

But swiftly mounts 
The love of liberty to fire our hearts 
With its immortal flame ; and, steeled with strength 
Beyond his own, springs each one to his post. 
The walls are manned ; the portals are made fast ; 

cesses in Ortygia, is in the highest degree improbable. They 
had been '' prompted as it were by an instinct of divine prov- 
idence " — such is the language of Diodorus — to rise against 
Dionysius, and had ridden swiftly to Syracuse in order to pre- 
pare to hold the city against him. That after their arrival they 
should have forgotten the purpose of their coming, and should 
have neglected to improve the brief interval allowed them for 
putting the town in a proper condition for its defence is incred- 
ible. It is very likely that acts of criminal violence were com- 
mitted during the excitement following their return. But that 
the knights were responsible for such acts must seem unlikely 
to esrery intelligent reader of history. Diodorus, no doubt, took 
the statement in question from the narrative of Philistus, — an 
historian who is said in all respects to have reflected the opin- 
ions and prejudices of Dionysius. 



60 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

The city through its length and breadth is roused. 

Armed knio^hts are hurrvino; to and fro. Throug:hout 

The wider streets and in the market-place 

Great throngs of citizens and women, pale 

With fear, are met together, and await. 

With sad and anxious heart, the dread event. 

And yet the slow-paced moments, seeming hours, 

Creep on, and Dionj^sius cometh not. 

In peacefulness, as if in mockery. 

Far toward the zenith climbs the silvery moon. 

Her flood of glory overflows the land 

And sparkling wave, but shows not 3'et his coming . 

Softly the gentle land-breeze swells and dies. 

Fraught with aroma of a thousand flowers ; 

But to our waiting, wearied hearts it bears 

No whispering of the coming of his host. 

Still onward goes the work of preparation. 

But now the shadow of the gnomon' hath, 

Methinks, alread}" marked the midnight hour. 

Standing on Achradina's heights, I hear 

As from afar on the Geloan road 

A clattering sound like that of cavalry 



^ The gnomon (yvcG/xwi/), or sun-dial, was at this period the 
usual instrument by means of which the ancients measured the 
time of day and night. It consisted of a pillar standing per- 
pendicular in a place exposed to the sun, and by its shadow 
divided the day into twelve parts. The clepsydra, or water-clock, 
came into common use at a later period. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 61 

When swift it speeds along a flinty way. 

Now, now, in very truth the foe draw nigh ! 

For from the gloom 'neath yonder beetling cliif, 

With waving plume and sudden flash of steel, 

Rush into view the foremost of their van, 

And bold outriders shout and cheer them on. 

Others succeed, and all sweep quickly forward 

To Achradina's gate, and loudl}^ cry 

To open unto Dionj^sius. But 

Their outcries are in vain ; the oaken port, 

Its brazen hinges guarded by stout arms 

And hearts of steel, yields never to their call. 

So are they well assured the truth is known, 

And that by force alone the}^ can prevail. 

In desperate charge they seek to storm the wall ; 

And then the roar of maddening strife doth pierce 

The startled ear of night. 

The clash of steel, 
The high-raised voices of command ; the cries 
Of combatants, the groans of those who sink 
Beneath the sword or from the parapet 
Are headlong hurled ; the cruel grief and fear 
Of friends within. Death's image, ever nigh 
In ever varied, ever ghastly shape. 
Do weave a horror that no words can paint, 
And such as may forevermore affright 
The dreams of him whose ej^es have seen its form. 
The din of conflict louder, louder swells. 



62 DAMOX AND PYTHIAS. 

Onward dark Treason goads her craven slaves, 

Bravely the sons of Freedom beat them back. 

There Dionj^sius shines resplendently 

In glittering armor ; as a lioness 

In Afric wilds, robbed of her tender whelps, 

He rages in the thickest of the fight. 

Here Pythias, chosen leader of our band, 

Stands forth all-radiant in the battle-flame. 

All-glorious in the justice of his cause. 

Long is the contest waged, and victory 

Seems ours. The}' yield, withdrawing from the wall, 

But onl}^ for a time. Once more the foe 

The assault renew, and, prompted by their chief. 

Seek, by a novel warfare, to prevail. 

Near hy are ready gathered from the fens 
Great stores of reeds, inflammable and dr}'. 
Such as are burned within the neighboring kilns. 
Of these they bear great masses to the gate. 
And build them from its base in towering pyre ; 
To this the}^ put the torch. A blaze upsprings, 
And, roaring skj^ward, quick enwraps the wall 
In furious folds of fire and volumed smoke. 
The patriot band, unshaken by the spear, 
Is backward driven from the seething storm. 
Our ranks are formed anew and take their stand 
To wait the deadlj^ onset that is nigh. 
The trusty portal, charred hy raging heat 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 63 

And fretted by the cankerous fires that burst 
From all its surface, wastes 'neath crackling flames 
Throughout ; its melting fastenings bend and jield 
As fiercer knocks the all-devouring fiend. 

New-comers swell the hostile ranks. The night 
Is near its end. 

At once, with thunder- sound, 
In ruin vast, falls Achradina's gate, 
And by its smothering embers griml}^ shows. 
To those without, our small but faithful band. 
We close our ranks. " Strike ! strike for liberty ! " 
Cries Pythias ; while through the yawning breach, 
In countless, overpowerino; numbers, rush 
The foe. 



O'erwhelmed by numbers, crowded back 
Into the Agora, begirt around 
By levelled steel, seven knights alone resist 
Of those who mustered at the midnight hour. 
Now lies their chief as lifeless 'mid the slain ; 
Their comrades brave no more can lend them aid. 
Yet still they battle, ever choosing death 
Before a tyrant's chains. 

Felled to the earth 
B}^ wounds, and then a helpless captive led, 
I see the closing scene in the most sad, 



64 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Terrific drama. I behold the blow 
Last struck for Sj'racusan liberty, 
And o'er the citj^'s latest champion rise, 
In blood-bought triumph, Dion3'sius' power. 

And only these resist? Alas ! 't is so. 
But one by one thej^ fall, till Damon, left 
Alone, begirt by enemies, stands o'er 
His country's grave. 

" Yield quickl}- or 3'ou die ! " 
The}^ shout. His answer is in deeds, not words : 
And b}^ his blade, swift-flashing as the light. 
Two more are wafted to the shadowy realm. 
But look ! he sinks ! Ah ! no ; not jet that soul 
Heroic goes to its reward. He lives. 
But higher, higher mount the paeans wild 
Of foemen, loud proclaiming victor}'. 
And with the shouts the trumpet harshl}^ blends. 
Now, now, in yqvj truth his hour is come ! 
He falls, and o'er his lowly, senseless form 
A score of arms upraise the murderous spear ; 
Death aims his grisly dart ! But suddenly. 
With warning gesture, one springs in the midst 
That cries, — 

" Forbear, forbear, and harm him not ! 
AVho doeth Damon injury shall die. 
I, Dionj'sius, give command that he. 
In double irons, under treble guard, 



DAMON' AND PYTHIAS. 65 

Shall straight be taken to the prison-house 
Of gloomy Lithotomise, and there 
Securely be confined. 

" And when three days 
Are past, and on the last hath come the set 
Of sun, he shall be brought unto this place, 
Where publicly the city may look on, 
To be beheaded, as a sign to all 
That I alone am lord of Syracuse. 

^' Such is my will and pleasure. Make ye haste 
And bear him hence. 

'' As to the rest who live, 
They have my pardon." 

Thus the night doth end. 
For now, above the ocean-floor, the east 
Is kindling with the ruddy flakes that paint .^ 

The earlj^ summer morn. 



66 DAMOY AND PYIHIAS. 



CANTO III. 

ARGUMENT. 

Pythagoras. — Meeting of the Pythagorean Brotherhood 
of Syracuse. Alethes speaks. Lycidas returns from Lith- 
otomise and relates the particulars of an interview between 
Damon and Dionysius. The tyrant will release the cap- 
tive if any one will wear his chains as a hostage to insure 
his return before the time fixed for his execution. Many 
of the Brothers seek to assume this suretyship, but at last 
yield to Pythias. — Ortygia: Interview between Pythias 
and the tyrant ; Pythias obtains the required permission 
to become Damon's hostage. — Lithotomise : Interview be- 
tween Damon, Pythias, and Philistus ; Damon is forced 
very unwillingly to leave Pythias in his stead. — Irene, the 
home of Damon. Interview between Damon and Calanthe, 
his wife ; Damon bids her a last farewell and departs on 
his return to Syracuse. — Pythias at the block. Damon 
returns just in time to save his friend. The tyrant, struck 
with admiration, releases both, and asks to be taken as 
a third member of their fellowship. 



Pythagoras ! ^ the mighty flow of aeons yet to come, 
Fulfilling Time, which, like the last of heavenly 
spheres, enwraps 

* See Appendix E. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 67 

All things, shall not outlive thy fame. More 'during 

than the bronze 
Of regal monuments, and loftier than the p^-ramids, 
Th}' glory shall remain and be renewed in endless 

growth. 

What though b}^ Metapontum's strand ^ the envious 

sea invade 
The land, unyielding keeper of thy tomb and of the 

dust 
That was thy mortal part ? The subtile chariot of the 

soul 
Hath sped afar to fields Elysian where the good and 

purified, 
Bej^ond corruption and the power of death, are clothed 

upon 
With immortality and made like Him whom worlds 

obey. 
Most noble was thy life's reward, illustrious the 

prize. 

Fair Samos, rising in queen-like beauty from the 

^gean wave, 
Renowned in commerce and the arts, gave unto 

Hera birth ; 



1 The tomb of Pythagoras at Metaiiontum was to be seen as 
late as the time of Cicero. 



68 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

But not the goddess lends thy native isle a greater 

meed 
Of honor than dost thou, whose name now fills the 

universe. 

Blind follies, grovelling passions were for others, not 

for thee. 
That m3^stic letter ^ from whose stem diverge to either 

side 
Twin branches, was to thee a symbol of the ways of 

life, 
Of Virtue and of Vice. The steep and narrow path 

that mounts 
Upon the right remained thy choice until the goal 

was won. 

The boundaries of time and space which fetter mortal 
man 

^ The letter Y was the Pythagorean symbol of human life. 
Early youth, before the moral character is formed, is repre- 
sented by the stem, the right branch is the path of virtue, the 
left the broader path of vice. Yirgil may have had in view this 
Pythagorean type when he wrote, — 

" Hie locus est, partes ubi se via findit in ambas: 
Dextera quae Ditis magni sub moenia tendit; 
Hac iter Elysium nobis ; at laeva malorum 
Exercet poenas, et ad impia Tartara mittit." 

yEn. YI, 540. 
By the Stoics, virtue was represented by a straight line, the 
vices by curves. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 69 

Could ill confine thy footsteps and the soaring of a 

mind 
That, far surpassing earthly knowledge, strove to 

reave the sky 
Of all its treasured secrets, cosmic order to unfold, 
And nearer to approach the One Ineffable who is 
Whatever is or hath been or shall be forevermore.^ 

The hidden learning of the nations was sought out by 

thee. 
And from the revelation, Wisdom, Strength, and 

Beauty sprang, 
And blending in harmonious presence, did thy being 

fill. 
Thy wandering footsteps strayed where Nilus rolls 

his 3^ellow tide. 
The bald skull of the desert mocks the heavens' 

changeless eye, 
And Memnon's statue ^ greets with tuneful chord the 

rays of morn ; 

1 An inscription on the ancient temple of Neith, — the Egyp- 
tian Minerva, — at Sais, a city of the Egyptian Delta, ran as 
follows: " I am the things that have been, and that are, and 
that will be ; and no mortal has ever yet taken off the veil that 
covers me; the fruit which I brought forth became the Sun." 

2 In the temple of Serapis, at Thebes, stood a colossal statue 
of Memnon, which gave forth harmonious sounds when it re- 
ceived the rays of the rising sun. The ruins of this statue still 
remain. The sound has been explained by a physical cause 
analogous to that which produces the acoustic phenomenon of 
the jEolian harp. 



70 DAMOJSr AND PYTHIAS. 

And where afar upon Euphrates' banks uprise the 

walls 
Of royal Babylon, and where Judsea's sons, restored 
From wandering, renewed the temple that their 

fathers built ; 
And from the moaning Bosporus unto far Calpe's 

bound. 
Unveiled to thee were Delphic and Idaean mysteries, 
The lore of magi and the adyta of sacred things ; 
Mankind thy coming hailed where'er dispersed 

throughout the earth ; 
"I greet thee," and "God speed thee," were thy 

welcome and farewell. 
Thus sought the world to make its wisdom thine, 

that as thou wast 
Of all first called "• Philosopher," so mightst thou be 

the chief. 

There rose within the clear illumination of thy mind 
A vision of the Architect Divine, whose thought alone. 
In long-lost seons past, had formed the bright celes- 
tial throng 
That minister to Him, had kindled evening's gilded 

train, 
And purple morn, had set in space the ponderous 

globes of Earth 
And Counter-Earth, the sunlit moon and all the 
heavenly spheres, 



DAMOX AND PYTHIAS, 71 

That, with a harmony too pure for human sense, 

revolve 
Around their unseen central-fire, the flaming Tower 

of Zeus.^ 

In this theophany didst thou behold a Highest Good, 

Eternal, infinite, unchangeable. To thee it told 

Of an Omniscient Mind, an Arm Omnipotent that 

guides 
The universe, an Omnipresent Eye, whose constant 

gaze 
Doth ever view each inmost secret of the heart's 

recess. 
And since creation from Essential Goodness had 

emerged, 
Informed by perfect power and wisdom immanent 

in Him, 
Its every part was rightly made as best for our estate. 

And thou hast taught that as true happiness cometh 

of Him, 
The Source of Good, so toward Him both our thoughts 

and deeds should tend, — 
That we should pay high honor to His name and to 

His oath, 
And in all rightful undertakings early seek His aid. 

^ See Appendix E. 



72 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

To thy well-ordered vision, freed from earthly dross, 
and pure, 

Had H^ revealed each shining orb that in the firma- 
ment 

Of Virtue rolls majestic and eternal round His throne, 

To such unchangeable and sacred guidance didst thou 
point, 

That by its aid our souls might sooner mount to end- 
less bliss. 

Thou, thou of all men, best hast taught what meaneth 
Brotherhood ; 

And from the great impression of thy mind thj^ vota- 
ries 

Have gained new bonds of sj^mpathy and love, and 
to the world 

Displayed grand deeds of high and noble and illus- 
trious worth. 

No longer maj^ thy chosen Fellowship behold thee here, 

But still our souls reflect thine imaged presence and 
thy words. 

Nor mourn we wisely ; for thy being, as thy fame, 
doth now 

Surmount the earth and tower amid the star-decked 
canopy. 

II. 

Near by preserving Fortune's marbled fane 

Were met within their place of gathering 



DAMON- AND PYTHIAS. 73 

Our Brotherhood of Syracuse. But far 

To seek were most of those who clasped our hands 

In fellowship in happier da3's. Alas ! 

'Xeath Gela's walls the hostile spear had freed 

Full many a soul from earth's dark prison-house, 

And left us naught but en\y of such fate ; 

And on the morn when Freedom winged her flight, 

Of those who, timeh^ warned, returned to die — 

If so their country bade — a freeman's death, 

The living told the multitude of slain ; 

And of the living heroes of that strife 

None was who mourned not to survive his wounds. 

Sad was our convocation. Hour like this 

Had never gloomed upon our fatherland, 

Nor on the welfare of our Brotherhood. 

Yet faithful to the steadfast tie that binds * 

In lo^'alty our esoteric band. 

Each true to each and to our Fellowship, 

The place of our resort had promptly gained ; 

And while without the clouds more darkly frowned, 

Unto our upturned gaze more bright!}' gleamed 

The symbol of that mystic, sacred Fount, 

Whence Nature, as our Order, draws her life.^ 

1 Reference is here made to the tetractys (in Greel^, TerpaKru?^ 
the number four), which, to the Pythagoreans, symbolized the 
fount of ever-flowing life and being {naynv a^vaov <^v(Te<M<;. Carm, 
Aur,f 48). Upon this symbol the Pythagoreans took a certain 



74 DAMON' AND PYTHIAS. 

Here might we find a refuge from the storm. 
And, touched with mutual pity, comfort seek, 
Or, in commingled grief, lament the dead ! 

To meet each friendly grasp, each fond embrace, 
Lo ! last of all, came Pythias. Braver knight 
Than he ne'er trod the battle-field ; more true 
Had ne'er partaken of our mysteries. 
From where the slain lay thick our loving arms 
Had borne him tenderly. The refluent tide. 
Of life returned ; and now, with feebler step. 
He came once more to greet the Sons of Light, 
And, as none other, welcome from them take. 
Yet scars of cruel wounds remained, fell proof 
How great the miracle that saved from death 
Him, the chief hero of that fatal morn. 



III. 

All were attentive as Alethes rose 

And said, responding to the thoughts of all, — 



oath, of which the fragment given us by Jamblichus. in his 
Life of Pythagoras, has been rendered as follows: — 

** By that pure, quadrilat'ral name on high, 
Nature's eternal fountain and supply. 
The parent of all souls that living be, — 
By it, with faithful oath, I swear to thee." 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 75 

" Brothers, once more within these peaceful walls, 
Where dwell Light, Love, and Truth, the living meet. 
But not with joy returns this social hour ; 
Deep in the depths of sorrow mourns each heart. 

" No longer may we share the polity 
Which, under equal laws and equal rights, 
Made each within the city peer of each. 
Nor longer will the segis of the free, 
Forth flashing terror, as the fabled shield 
Of Zeus, unite us 'gainst the savage foe. 

" Fallen and helpless lies the commonwealth ! 
A tyrant's will stands for the people's rule, 
And with him are our fortunes and our lives. 

" Nor this alone. The unavailing tear 
Will often flow in memory of those 
Who fell so nobly in our latest strife. 
Too manly to endure a despot's frown, 
Too patriotic to survive the State, 
They gave themselves in wilUng sacrifice. 
Whereof the glory maj^ assuage our woe. 

" But when will end our longing and our grief 
For the dear friends among our Brotherhood, 
Who, not by alien hands, have passed away? 
The fratricidal steel that shed their blood 



76 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

Brought ruin to the nation, and to us 
Perpetual sorrow for the untimely dead. 
For these we mourn as onl}" Brothers vufxy. 
No more will their glad footsteps find this place 
Of wonted gathering. No more with them 
May we conjoin within these walls as once, 
In holy offices of Love and Truth, 
Of Friendship, Charity, Benevolence. 

" Yet there they sank to rest where for mankind 
'T is glorious to die. 

" So ma}' kind Earth 
Take fondl}' to her bosom that which sprang 
From Earth, whilst in the realm above both Joy 
And Immortality their souls inwreath. 

" And is now filled the measure of our ills, 
Ingathered is the harvesting of death? 

" Alas ! still one remains his doom to meet : 
With fetters bound, deep in the quarried depths 
Of Lithotomise, Damon captive lies, — 
Of rank sublime among the Brotherhood, 
The chosen leader of our Fellowship. 

'' The tyrant hath condemned him that he die 

To-morrow ere depart the beams of day. 

Would we might save his life ! But hope seems vain, 



I 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 11 

As vain have been our efforts in the past. 
The tyrant will give ear to none. With mind 
Firm fixed in his fell purpose, he is deaf 
To such as speak of mercy. He declares 
That die our Brother must and shall, as now 
Appointed. 

'* Yet for counsel are we met, 
Each lending aid to each, that we may learn, 
If hapl}' new endeavor may avail 
To rescue Damon from his threatened fate. 

" Grand is the mystery of Brotherhood, 
That binds us each to each ! An orb it shines, 
With beams eternal, pure, of Light and Life 
And Love, to help us in our journeying on 
And upward to the realms of endless da}^. 
Where, in communion sweet, beneath the Ej'e 
Divine, earth's labor o'er, the harvest reaped. 
Our souls shall find repose. 

'' The outer world 
Knows not the guiding-star that lights our path ; 
Unveiled to us, it knits in unity. 
And, hand to hand and heart to heart, conjoins 
Our Fellowship till time shall be no more. 
The sundering sea cannot divide our love, 
Nor fleeting years nor Death's fell stroke destroy. 
The centuries may waste the monuments 
That mark the pride, the pageantry of man ; 



78 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

The firm, unshaken earth, the mountain-tops 
That rest amid the clouds, may find a grave 
Beneath the encroaching surges of the deep ; 
Yet still shall Friendship's mystic tie unite, 
And still the hght that guides our Brotherhood, 
Kindled bj' torch of heavenly flame, burn bright. 
Art thou our Brother? Then thou wear'st a crown 
More proud than any kingly potentate ; 
For thou art of that band whose loyalty 
To thee, as thine to them, can never fail. 
Does lying slander harm thee ? Every tongue 
Shall strive to keep unsullied thy repute. 
Does sickness waste thee ? Thou shalt find in us 
The willing ministrants to thy relief. 
Does danger threaten? Knowing this, we give 
Thee timel}^ warning that thou ma^'st avoid. 
Has death encompassed thee ? With fortitude 
Would w^e imperil life to save thine own. 

'' Such is our Brotherhood, and such the love 
That makes a Brother but our ' other self.'^ 



^ This conforms to Pythagoras' definition of a friend, — eo-rl 

yap ioq (fia/xev o (/)tAo9 devrepoi; eyoo. 

Another Pythagorean definition of friendship was, *'Two 
bodies, — one soul," — o-wju-ara fjikv Svo \{/vx-n 5e fjiia, A friend was 

'* half of the soul," — rnxta-v t^5 yjjvxv'y- 

Horace employs the last definition in an ode addressed to 
his friend and patron, Maecenas : — 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 79 

Then with a common purpose let us seek, 

If hapl}' Damon may escape his doom. 

Let each make known what seemeth to him best. 

Erelong will friendl}^ Lycidas return. 

Who to the prison went charged with our love 

For Damon, and right well provided, too, 

With gold, most potent to unloose the tongues 

Of surly jailers and to gain us tidings." 



IV. 

These words Alethes spake, and suddenly, 

As if in answer to the heart's desire, 

Into our presence Lycidas returned. , 

Welcomed by all, an audience he claimed, 

And thus related to us what we sought : — 

"Brothers, with eager steps I hastened hence 

*' Ah te meae si partem animae rapit 
Maturior vis, quid moror altera, 
;N"ec earns aeque nee superstes 
Integer ? " 

Od. II, X YII, 5. 

And again, in an ode addressed to the ship that was carrying 
his friend Virgil, the poet, to Greece: — 

*' Navis, quae tihi creditnm 
Debes Virgilium finibns Atticis 

Reddas incolumem precor, 
Et serves animae dimidium meae.'* 

Od. I, III, 5. 



80 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

And gained admission to the prison-house 

Of Lithotomise. Within its gloom 

I strove with unavaiUng prayers to reach 

The cell of Damon. Neither gold nor tears 

Could overcome the tyrant's stern command 

Imposed upon the keepers, that alone 

Our Brother should await the hour of death. 

Thus had my errand almost fruitless been. 

But one Damoetas, who kept guard within 

And seemed to have compassion for our friend, 

Most willingly, for he refused reward, 

Yet secretly acquainted me of this 

I now repeat as he hath given it. 

" 'T was yesterday that some unknown desire 

Or fancy led the tyrant to the cell 

Of Damon. With him were his satellites, 

Philistus and those other sj'cophants 

Who share the honors of his new-made power. 

Subservient to imperial state, the guard 

Quickly unclosed the ponderous barriers 

And lighted him into the dungeon's depths. 

There he beheld the captive, doubly ironed 

And feeble from his wounds. 

" Then unto him 
The tjTant said, ' Well mayst thou now regret 
Thy folly on the night when thou mad'st bold 
To face my power. Ay, suppliant at my feet. 
Implore forgiveness ! Hast thou aught to say?' 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 81 

''And Damon answered, ' I have no regret 
Save for loy countrj' ; and I dread thee not, 
That I should ask for mercy. As thou wilt, 
Release me from these chains or take my life.' 

" ' Thou hast no fear of death? ' 

" 'I fear it not. 
Against the foe and at the latest hour 
I perilled all for freedom. This now lost, 
Death seems more welcome than to live a slave.' 

" ' Thy friends, the members of thy Brotherhood, 
Are striving all to save thee ; the}^ entreat 
Most earnestly that th}^ life may be spared.' 

" ' Ah, Dionysius, nev^er canst thou know 
The tie that binds them to me ! Hath my fate 
Then caused such sorrow ? From m}^ prison-house 
My heart goes out to them in thankfulness. 
Faithful are these amid earth's darkest ills. 
Had I of one brief hour the boon, forthwith 
Would I haste unto them to say farewell. 
It may not be. Still shall we meet again 
In time to come.' 

" ' Thou speakest mj^steries. 
But liveth there none other whom ere death 
Thou wouldst revisit? Is there none, save these, 
Of whom thou wouldst eternal parting take ? 
Hast thou a wife or child ? ' 



82 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

*' ' Forbear, forbear, 
Most cruel Dionysius ! Make for me 
New instruments of pain, prolong my life 
Beneath a quivering, an unceasing flow 
Of anguish ; rack and torture as thou wilt, 
And men shall hear me with my latest breath 
Defy thy might. But spare this pang, and speak 
No more, no more of those whom thou hast named ! 
Oh, could I steel myself against the thought 
Of all most maddening, that the fatal day 
Will come ere I again may see their forms. 
As purest star hath risen 'mid this gloom 
The beauteous vision of my far-off home. 
Of wife and child. And ever in my dreams 
An image of the loved ones calms my rest. 
Yet would my reason wander from its throne 
Had I no respite from the dreadful thought 
Of separation. But the cruel words 
From thee, the author of the woe that frets 
My soul, renew this grief with keenest pang. 
Once more I seem to gaze on her who waits 
With fond embrace my coming, and the joy 
Of our fair child, half told in prattling speech 
To us whose mutual love she binds anew. 
Oh, mayst thou, Dionysius, deign to grant 
To me, most wretched, but a single day 
To seek my home, a last farewell to say ! 
Then will I swift return and suffer death.' 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 83 

" ' So, Damon, have I moved thy lofty soul, 

Now era vest thou the favor of my power ! 

Yet should I grant the boon thou hast besought, 

Canst give assurance of thy coming back 

To meet th}' doom? ' ' Thou 'It have the very best.' 

' Then hast thou gold? ' ' Not gold have I, but that 

"Which gold shall never taint, — an honest word. 

That will I pledge as gage of my return.' 

' Can I believe thy promise would avail 

Against the love of life ? Not so wilt thou 

Escape me and the headsman ! But dost think, — 

Thou 'It laugh, Philistus, at the merry jest, — 

Dost think there lives among thy Brotherhood 

A Brother who would aid thee in thy stress. 

Here wear thy chains, awaiting thy return. 

To die instead of thee, shouldst thou not come 

Within the time appointed ? ' 

" 'Ay ! not one. 
But all, O Dionysius, willingly 
Would help me thus if they but knew my need ; 
Yet would I suffer none so dear as these 
To bear my chains or peril life for me.' 
' What folly hast thou babbled to the winds. 
If I have heard thy words ! Then hast thou faith 
Thy Brotherhood would peril life for thee ? ' 
' So have I said, O Dionysius ; so 
Once more I tell thee.' 

" ' Damon, hopest thou 



84 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

B}^ this asseveration to commend 

Such marvel unto our belief ? Vain, vain 

The effort ! What the mysteries may be 

Of those among thy Order, what the oaths 

And mutual duties of their fellowship 

I care not. For I well and truly know 

That not in Syracuse nor in the land 

Can one be found who, willingly, would leave 

The bloom and beauty of the outer world, 

With all that makes the happiness of life, 

And here, within these gloomy, noisome depths, 

Put on thy chains, and as a pledge for thee. 

Await the coming of the dreadful hour. 

If such there were, then would I grant thy prayer. 

" ' But time is swiftly speeding. Let us haste, 
Philistus, for the moment is near by 
When I must mount my throne in regal state, 
And hold my court. And, Damon, as to thee ' — 

" ' I go, thou tyrant, to a glorious death ! ' " 



When Lycidas had ended, straight there rose 
The murmurings of wonder and of joy. 
And then, as if b}^ common impulse moved 
To friendly strife, each Brother sought to be 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 85 

The foremost in his offering to haste 
To Dion^'sius, and of him beg leave 
To be a pledge for Damon*s prompt return. 

Whilst all in worthy emulation strove, 

And harmony was lost in that wherein 

Each close agreed with each, none might prevail. 

At last, in silence, we gave willing ear 

To Pythias, who was Damon's dearest friend. 

" Brothers," he said, " I thank you that I may 
Be heard, in claiming that which to myself 
Peculiarly belongs ; for not alone 
The common tie which binds our fellowship 
Impels me, though the same might well suffice 
At such a time ; for Friendship is our first 
And grandest bond. Another right is mine. 
That Damon should accept me as his pledge. 
In early childhood's hours began my love 
For him. Fond memory hath oft restored 
The petty hamlet 'mid Sicilian hills. 
Its cottages half hidden by the wealth 
Of nature's bloom, where passed our early life 
In sweet companionship. Again I seem 
To mingle with him in the jocund sports 
That swiftly sped the shining daj^s of 3'outh, 
And in the tasks wherein, with minds as one. 
We conned the mysteries of things unknown. 



86 • DAMOy AXD PYTHIAS . 

E'en then was Damon, as in after-time, 
My best and firmest friend, the soul of truth 
And honor ; pure, heroic, masterful, 
Exemplar of his bojdsh following. 
And as the tranquil river's peaceful flow. 
Calmly moved on the current of our joys. 

'' But suddenly, ere we had sprung to manhood. 

The call of perilled country summoned us 

To leave our pleasant home for other scenes 

More mighty than our land had yet beheld. 

AYe came to Syracuse. And soon began 

The grand, ensanguined drama of that siege, 

Wherein the armament of Athens strove 

With sword and spear to pass the rampired walls 

Our city to o'erwhelm. Then side by side 

We faced the foe. E'en from the day when gleamed 

Over the ocean-floor their thousand sails 

Until the last, when Victor}^ placed her crown 

Of gold upon our City's brow, our lives. 

Our hopes were one. But oft in peril were 

Our lives, and thrice when danger imminent 

That threatened instant death, assailed mine own, 

The friendly arm of Damon came to save. 

"- Then was our mutual love still firmer knit 
On other battle-fields ; and when erelong, 
The tie of Brotherhood had made more pure 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. C 

And sacred that which bound our hearts before, 
In very truth was each to each the half 
Of his own soul.^ 

" At Acragas we fought, 
And there, once more, upon the dreadful night 
When all the countless population swarmed 
In terror from the doom that overhung 
The fated town, my life was saved by him. 
And at the final hour, when Prudence marked 
The scheme of treason, now, alas ! fulfilled. 
Together we marched forth in the proud host 
That Dion^^sius led to Gela's aid. 
But vain our going ! Sad the day of hope 
We left our homes to seek Geloan walls ! 
A mightier foe than Lybia's swarthy ranks 
AVas nigh. Men knew it not ; or if by us 
Forewarned, they heeded not, until uprose 
In hideous gloom, yet full revealed by Proof, 
Who.«*e trembling torch flamed at the hour of fate. 
The treason that hath wrecked our commonwealth. 
'T W9S then, with such as were of all our knights 
Most true, we sprang in haste upon our steeds 
And, as an arrow, passed the ghostly throngs 
That filled the roads, and sped to save the State. 
Alas, its doom was sealed ! The smoking void 
Of Achradina's gate, the blood-stained earth, 

1 See preceding note, page 78. 



88 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

The relics of the slain, proclaimed the end 
Of SjTacusan freedom. 

" From the dead 
I rose ; 3^et death seemed blissful to the woe 
That after came when Damon's fate was told. 
Then, broken-hearted, reft of country, friend, 
This firm resolve I made : that if my life. 
So oft preserved by him, might save his own, 
It should be given in willing sacrifice. 

" Brothers, my tale is told ; and judge ye now 

If any hath a better right than mine 

To wear the chains of Damon. I it is 

Who was his earliest friend. To him I owe 

My life and all the years of happiness 

Of which he was the giver and the source. 

Oppose me not, my Brothers, for with mind 

As firm in this as in its love for him, 

I justly take upon myself forthwith 

To seek the tyrant's court, and there obtain 

Fulfilment of my heart's inmost desire. 

The hour is nigh when Dionysius, robed 

In ro3^al splendor, will ascend his throne 

And there, in novel power, receive the prayers 

And plaints of those who need imperial aid. 

Such is the proclamation. 

'' Then, farewell ! 
Farewell, dear Brothers, till we meet again." 



DAMOy AND PYTHIAS, 89 

He ended, none opposing, and 'mid tears 

And heart}" "- God speed !" vanished from oar sight. 



VI. 

Where stands Ortygia's statel}^ citadel, 

A fortress and a palace, was the home 

Of Dionysius. Towers and battled walls. 

Which gleamed in strength and beauty far o'er land 

And sea, there made secure his ro3"al sway. 

As shadows, ever round his footsteps thronged, 

By day and night, a mercenary horde 

Of Sj^racusans and Itaiiotes. 

Their duty 'twas his slightest wish to heed, 

And guard from harm his person and his throne. 

None might approach his presence unannounced. 

Save only those, his friends and parasites. 

Whose loyalt}" was proved. Yet, in the pride 

Of kingly rule unfelt before, by act 

Of public proclamation, had he deigned 

To grant imperial leave that whoso would 

Might daily seek him, at a stated hour. 

And humbl}' make petition to be heard. 

And thus it was upon the day whose flight 

Should 3'ield to that when Damon was to die, 

Within his audience -hall the tyrant sat 

And listened to the supplications made. 

Philistus was beside him, and hard by 



90 DAMOK AKD PYTHIAS, 

The rake and spendthrift Hipparinus stood, 

With other courtiers, whose old-time repute 

Was evidential of their welcome here. 

While sheathed in glittering helmet, cuirass, greaves, 

With sword and spear and shield, each guardsman 

held 
His station near the footstool of the throne. 

Now when already many had besought 
The tj'rant for his aid, or homage paid 
To him as ruling monarch of the State, 
Philetor, keeper of the inner gate. 
Approached, obsequious, and, with lowly bo'w, 
Announced, '' O sovereign, there is one who begs 
That I admit him to thy presence, known 
To be most hostile to thy power. 

" He hath, 
We fear, intent of evil ; for he would 
In no wise hint the purpose of his mind." 
And Dionysius said, '' Whate'er he seek, 
Forbid not that he enter. Let my guard 
With watchful eye observe him." 

Then within 
Came Pythias, and awaited leave to speak. 

" What, Pj'thias ! leader of my bitterest foes ! 

Thou hast an iron heart to venture here ! 

Fain would I tell my guard to cleave thee where 



DAMON' AND PYTHIAS. 91 

Thou standest ; but the pardon late decreed 

Doth shield thee. Rumor had pronounced thee dead. 

Thou liv'st to see me king ! Why cam'st thou here ? " 

" In hope to loose a Brother from his chains." 

'' Who is that Brother? " '' Damon." "And what 

wouldst?" 
" Mj'self to offer in his stead, that he, 
Before the hour appointed for his death, 
May look on wife and child. So should not he 
Return, on me shall fall the headsman's stroke." 

" What madness, what delirium do I hear? 

Thou knowest not nor canst what thou hast sought." 

" O Sovereign, in the soberness of truth. 
My lips reveal to thee my heart's desire." 

" Then tell me yet again what thou wouldst have." 

" That till the hour when Damon is to die. 
He may be free and I may wear his bonds, — 
My life to be the price of his default." 

" Amazement wild confounds me ! Can it be 
That such a wonder will command belief ? 
Recallest thou, Philistus, how, in vain, 
The lips of Damon late averred the same. 
That hath fulfilment here most marvellous ? 



92 DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 

Yet Pythias hath not seen his captive friend. 
It matters not. 

'' But tell me, ere th}^ prayer 
Be granted or refused, hast thou not heard 
That Damon languishes 'neath ponderous chains, 
Amid thick gloom, wherein no ray of light 
Can shine? Or thus forewarned, dost yet desire 
His sufferings to take upon thj'self ? " 

" Thy words, O Dion^^sius, urge me on 
With swifter speed to seek his prison-house.'* 

"Yet shouldst thou, as a pledge of his return, 

Await in vain his coming, thinkest thou 

The headsman's sword shall loiter in its task? 

Dost hope my mercy will relent at last 

To save thee from destruction self-imposed ? " 

" Naught could I hope of mercy, should he fail. 
But fail he will not. Might I dream of that, 
More welcome were his chains, — most welcome, 
death ! " 

" Amazement ever greater doth enwrap 
My soul ! 

'' But tell, what's Damon unto thee. 
That thou, in his relief, wouldst venture life ? " 



DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 93 

'' He is a Brother, bound to me b}' ties 
"Which only those can feel on whom they rest." 

" What tie can lead thee to imperil life ? " 

" A bond which so unites our Brotherhood 
That none hath fear of peril, pain, or death, 
When led by duty in a Brother's need." 

" Think'st thou thy friend such risk would take for 
thee?" 

" Greater, indeed, had he incurred for me 
Ere this new bond of union made us one." 

' ' But what assurance hast thou that again 

Thou wouldst behold him whom thou hadst set free ? " 

' ' The sun is not more constant in his course 
Than Damon in the path of honest}^ ; 
And linked with honor is his love for me. 
And with our mutual love, those sacred ties, 
Which, whoso well observes, can never err. 
Yet would I hope he come not ere the hour. 
So might my death release him from his doom." 

'' 'T is wonderful ! The proof of love like this, 

Surpassing all that I had known before 

Of friendship or had dreamed, hath filled my breast 



94 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

With admiration, with astonishment ! 

Pythias, I grant thy prayer. But mark thou well, 

The doom prepared for Damon waits for thee, 

Should he return not ere the appointed time. 

Thee, O Philistus, I permit to wear 

This ro3'al token of authority. 

Take Pj^thias with thee and straightway repair 

Unto the prison-house ; at once remove 

From Damon everj^bond, and set him free, 

With knowledge of whatever thou shouldst impart. 

Let Pythias be confined in Damon's stead 

And put in chains. 

" To-morrow we shall see — 
For Damon goes forever from our sight — 
How one can die that loveth so his friend." 



vn. 

'' Oh, jo3'ful hour ! The wanderer hath returned. 
Once more I gaze upon my beauteous home, 
And feel the fond embrace of wife and child, 
And press them to my heart. I live anew 
In ecstasy of bliss ineffable ! 

But now, alas ! whence comes such woful change? 
All vanishes to naught, and where these were 
I look for them in vain. What midnight gloom 
Now thick enshroudeth me ? What fetters bind ? 
'T was but an empty dream ! Again I wake 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 95 

Amid the darkness of my prison-house, 
And the bright vision wrought in fancy's flight 
Departs as to the dungeon- keep my soul 
Returns. Oh, blessed image of my home ! 
Oh, sad awakening from its fleeting jo3^s ! 
And shall death take me hence forevermore 
Ere I behold the loved ones ? Must they wait 
In vain my coming, till the fearful hour 
That tells them of my fate ? May no last word 
Of fondness, no farewell, assuage the grief 
Of parting ? 

' ' Terrible beyond all pangs 
The fearful shrink from and the brave defy I 
But for this thought my dauntless will should soar, 
High-raised and triumphing, be3'ond this gloom, 
These chains, and death itself! For what is death 
To him that dies in such a cause ? Let none 
For me lament the fatal hour, or drop 
The unavailing, the untimely tear. 
I go to meet my doom with steadfast heart. 
Sustained by hope, which giveth at the block 
To ever}^ patriot forecast of the years 
That are to come, when Freedom may regain 
New life and being from the illustrious worth 
Of such as nobly perished in her cause. 
So shall I pass from life to be enshrined 
Forevermore in immortality 
With those who died that Freedom miojht survive. 



96 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

" E'en now, methinks, draws near the longed-for hour ; 
The bolts are backward thrust ; the mass}' door 
Grates on its hinges. Yonder shines a ray 
Piercing these depths where day and night are one. 
Ay, hither comes Damoetas. He alone, 
Of those appointed as my keepers here , 
Hath seemed to have compassion for my lot. 
And there 's Philistus, Dionysius' friend. 
There, too, with clanging arms, the prison-guard 
That will attend me to the place of death. 
But who in haste outstrippeth all the rest. 
Who now enfolds me in this close embrace ? " 

" 'T is Pythias, bringing life and liberty 

And happiness ! My Damon, thou art free ! " 

"Pythias, vaj Brother and my dearest friend ! 

I 've mourned for thee as numbered with the dead. 

How have I longed to see thee ere the last ! " 

" And me thou now beholdest. Let me help 
To loose the fetters from thee ; they shall gall 
Thy limbs and weigh thee to the earth no more. 
From tliis eternal gloom thou shalt go forth 
To gaze upon the sunlit hills and breathe 
The fresh and fragrant air of heaven. Again 
Wilt thou be welcomed by our Brotherhood, 
And feel the twining arms of wife and child, 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 97 

And in a life renewed taste bliss unfelt 
Before. 

" At last thy sorrows find an end ; 
And now with jo}' m}'- breast o'erflows that I, 
Whom thou hast loved so well, may be the first 
To tell the tidings and to set thee free. 
All things are rightly cared for. Near the house 
Of Cah'don, our Brother, is thy steed, 
Waiting to bear thee swiftly to thy home. 
Now art thou bound no longer b}^ these chains, 
Now has thou license to depart. Farewell ! 
Farewell ! '' 

"' Sa^st thou farewell? What meanest thou? 
Come quickly with me, Pythias ! Let us hence ! " 

''Here, Damon, I remain ; but linger not 
Forme." 

" Thou to remain within this cell ! 
What words are these, my Brother? Thinkest thou 
I leave thee here ? " 

" Here, Damon, must T stay ; 
Thus have I gained the royal leave that thou 
Mayst to thy home return. The tyrant looks 
For thee no more. Then hasten ! I will here 
Abide ; for thee is life and libert3^" 

" Ah, Pythias, until now thou 'st called me friend ! 
From childhood I have loved thee. la our joys, 



98 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 

Our griefs, were we as one. With equal steps, 
Conjoined in hand and heart, have we pursued 
Life's rugged path, and distant seemed the day 
When either should forget the mutual claim 
Of old-time friendship and of Brotherhood. 
But, Pj'thias, thou hast known me not. Vain, vain. 
Have been the years which have united us, 
When thou to me can proffer such dishonor. 
Take back thy words and give me back my chains ! 
Kind though thy purpose, thou of all most dear, 
Yet ne'er through me shalt thou endure these bonds.' 

" Damon, my Brother, let my love for thee, 
Well proven in the years that are gone bj^ 
Make answer for me unto thj^ reproach ; 
And let the life thou hast so often saved, 
E'en as it is thy boon, be thine to have 
As the last offering Pj^thias can bestow. 
Mine are the chains ; for thee is liberty." 

'• Talk not to me of liberty, when gained 
Through infamy ! Again will I put on 
These manacles, less grievous than the thought 
That I could e'er be false to Friendship's tie." 

'' False thou couldst never be ! But false were I 
If, having come to save my best-loved friend, 
M}^ purpose should prove recreant to its trust, 
Yielding to that which makes more just its aim." 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 99 

*' These words are useless ; leave me to my fate ! " 

Then spake Philistus, '' By the sovereign's charge, 
On me imposed, thou, Damon, now art free, 
And must depart forthwith. If then thou wilt, 
When thou hast looked on wife and child, thou mayst 
Return, and at the appointed hour meet death. 
But shouldst thou, ere the hour, come not, thy friend, 
Who hath obtained the roj^al leave to be 
Imprisoned in thy stead, as gage for thee, 
Must undergo thy sentence. Thou art free, 
And he, my prisoner. To-morrow eve 
Or thou or he must die." 

And Damon said, 
'' Dream'st thou, Philistus, I could thus forsake 
A friend, a Brother, leaving him in gaol, 
Captive for me, to meet with death should chance 
Delay my coming ? 

'' Pj'thias, is it well 
That in thy boundless love thou hast for me 
Assumed such dreadful hazard ? Nay ! thyself 
Carry my sad adieu to the sweet home 
I nevermore may see, while here I wait 
Not long the swift-approaching hour supreme, 
The mortal stroke that brings, at last, repose." 

Thereon Philistus, '' Not with me it rests 

In aught to change the sovereign's strict command ; 



100 DAMON- AND PYTHIAS. 

By his imperial will, of whom I am 
The trusty minister, go forth thou must, 
But Pythias shall remain." 

''Alas, alas!" 
Cried Damon. ' ' Cruel fate ! Hadst thou, my friend, 
Foreseen the anguish that now rends my breast ! 
Oh, that thy heart, too faithful to the last. 
Had kept its generous purpose unrevealed ! 
Yet is there time. As me thou lovest, seek 
The tj'rant and thy heedless prayer recall ! " 
Then Pythias answered, " Hither have I come 
In hope to save thy life. Nor words of thine. 
Thou one best loved, nor fear of mortal pangs, 
Can change the steadfast purpose of my soul. 
In the lone dungeon's gloom I '11 wear thy bonds 
More proudly than the sovereign, on his throne 
In state imperial, wears the kinglj^ crown. 
And on the morrow, at the set of sun, 
Pythias for thee would die. O Damon, grant 
Me this ! Bear hence my last farewell. 
And in the coming years sometimes recall 
The friend whose latest praj^er ascends for thee. 
To wear thy chains, my Brother, e'en the least 
Amongst our Fellowship aspired. To them, 
As unto me, the voice of Dutj^ spake 
Imperiously when first was manifest 
The means of helping thee in thy distress. 
But when to me, thy friend of friends, alone, 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 101 

Each Brother yielded up his rightful claim, 

A grander purpose dawned within my soul 

Than to assure thee respite for a day. 

I thought to give thee freedom, life, and joy ; 

The pangs of death to suffer in thy stead ; 

To meet the noble lofty fate of him 

That bravely perishes to save a friend. 

I sought the tyrant. In amaze he heard, 

Consented to my prayer. By his supreme 

Authority I am thy hostage. But 

For what? When he declared thou wouldst return 

No more to Syracuse, my former hope 

More brightly burned to light me on my way 

To gain thy dungeon and fulfil its aim. 

I thought of loved ones far away ; but these 

Had mourned for me ere now, except thy arm 

Had rescued me. As from the glorious beams 

Of day I passed, all nature, wreathed in smiles 

Alluring, beckoned unto me to stay 

My steps ; but clearer shone the guiding-star 

That led me on. My vision gazed on thee 

Alone, the object of my hope. In thee 

I saw the friend who ofttimes had preserved 

My life, — the joy, the pride, the chosen chief. 

The loved and honored of our Brotherhood ; 

The father of a ch'ld within whose orbs 

The morning beams of heavenly radiance play 

Whene'er, with lisping tongue, she speaks thy name ; 



102 DAMO^'' AND PYTHIAS, 

A husband, whose sad heart could have no grief 

Surpassing that which unto earth would crush 

Thy dear Calanthe in the fatal hour 

Of revelation. Think of ail, my friend, 

For which thou livest ! Well may I entreat 

That I, not thou, may bear the mortal stroke. 

Yet, since Philistus hath to thee disclosed 

That which my tongue would ever haA^e concealed. 

Grant me at least this prayer. Refuse it not ! 

Speed to thy home this night ! Behold thy wife, 

Thy child ! And then may God fulfil the hope 

Thou mayst return to SjTacuse no more. 

It is ordained that now thou must depart. 

But speak, and ere thy going let me rest 

Assured that thou wilt straightway seek thy home." 

" Pythias, I grant thy latest prayer. To-night 

I hasten — oh, how mournfully ! — to say 

The parting word ' Farewell ' to wife and child ; 

And on the morrow I return to meet 

My doom. Maj^ God preserve thee till I come 

Again ! " 

One fond embrace, and so they parted. 
The ponderous prison-door closed on the tomb 
Where P^^thias lay. 

Then from the gloomy depths 
Did Damon, sorrowful in heart, come forth 
And gaze upon a world of beauty, seen 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 103 

In fading splendor 'neath the golden bars 
Of parting day. 



YIII, 

The day is nigh ; and through Irene's ^ glades 
And 'mid the whispering leafage slowly creep 
The forms uncouth of Darkness and of Night, 
Who ever shrink, and, like as guilty things, 
Pale at the first faint kindling of the dawn. 

Not yet the cold, dank, earth-born shadows lift ; 
But eastward, in the dusky vault, the lamps 
Of heaven now burn with feebler ray ; and low 
Adown, upon a pearl-white field, doth glow. 
In dimly umbered hue, the morning-red. 
The fouK gross airs, in swifter, swifter fiight, 
Are fleeting from the incense-laden breath 
Of Her whose kindly murmuring e'er in love 
Foretells to everj" drooping, trembling flower 
The coming of the shining, joyous Hours. 

Soon, one by one, the waning stars are quenched ; 
And where the da^'spring draweth near, great waves 
Of rudd}^ light empurple the bluey sky 



1 Irene, the home of Damon. Irena was the Goddess of 
Peace. 



104 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

In ever-broadening, ever-brighter flow. 

As now emerges out of ebbing gloom 

The rock-ribbed, giant form of -Etna's mount, 

Its flames decay, and from its molten depths 

No longer the Cyclopian forges burn 

To heaven their sickly fires. 

Through endless change 
The dim auroral flushing is become 
A safiron sea, whose sheen j^ line of surf 
Swift mounts, and ever toward the zenith sweeps, 
Until, slow cleaving ocean's iron-blue rim, 
In splendor and in majesty enrobed, 
The God of Day begins his mighty course. 

Now Nature liveth in a life renewed ; 

And on green field and purple, vine-clad hill. 

On whispering forest and low-murmuring brook, 

Hyperion doth fling his golden shafts. 

To gild with brighter hues the blooming earth, 

Long roseate with the tints of crimson morn. 

What wealth of happiness now fills thj^ realm, 
Irene ! 

From the smiling greensward, decked 
With blossoms dew-besprent, to where thj" groves 
Re-echo from unseen, aerial bowers. 
The liquid warbling of their painted choirs, — 
All, all is joy. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 105 

Far, far away mounts up 
To heaven the smoke of burning cities, 
And flashing steel reflects the rays of morn. 
Within thy peaceful bounds, nor sight nor sound 
Disturbeth Love divine, as^she conjoins 
Harmonious Life and living Harmony, 
With flowery fetters binding them in one. 

Yet darkly. Home of Beauty, hath the sun 
Of this bright day arisen unto her 
Who, fairer than thyself, now cometh forth 
From yonder cottage. 

Would her lonely heart 
Swift flit on wings of love to seek its mate? 
Erelong its inmost core shall feel such grief 
As hopeth tearless rest from earthl}^ ills. 
Where flows the calm, Lethean flood of death. 

Unto the margent cool her footsteps tend, 
Where ofttimes she and Damon wont to watch 
The distant flash of sail upon the sea. 
The mirrored j^lay of foliage in the stream 
Below, the wide champaign, the western hills, 
Eobed in the splendor of declining day 
Or tipt with morn's first beams. 

And by her side 
Anthera, tender image of the one 
To whom she clingeth, ever stops to cull 
Some bright-hued flower. 



106 DAMO:^' AND PYTHIAS. 

Together they repose 
Them by the bank bedight with summer's bloom, 
And there the mother, from the floral hoard 
The child hath gathered, makes with loving hands 
A garland for her nestling. 

'' Would that now 
Thy father might behold thee, little maid," 
She says, and places on her head the wreath. 
With fond maternal care. 

And thus adorned, 
Anthera, prattling, ever joyous, fills 
The vocal air with childlike happiness. 
And cheers the mother's breast. 

More swiftly fly 
The blissful moments of the golden morn. 
The streamlet's crystal flow, the smiling earth. 
The blithesome song of birds from every spraj'. 
Reflect a sunlight alwa3's brighter made 
Within the lorn one's heart. 

But list ! a sound 
Is heard afar like that of clattering hoofs. 
And ever nearer, clearer is it borne. 
Who spurreth onward in so furious haste ? 
What jo}^ or fear disturbs the mother's soul 
That she so quickly hastes to clasp her child, 
Gazing with earnest vision toward yon glade 
Where first the unseen comer may be known? 
Her doubt is for a moment ; then she cries, 



DAMOJV AND PYTHIAS. 107 

" Tis he ! 'T is he ! " And on his bounding steed 
Her Damon, pale as death, flies to her side. 
And, trembling, wraps her in a close embrace. 

" My husband, might I utter half my heart 

Would tell thee ! Oh, what happiness before 

Unfelt now gilds the radiant morn ! Each tear 

Since thy departure I have shed for thee. 

As every prayerful sigh for thy return. 

Hath made more glad the moment when I dwell 

Upon thy ever-faithful breast in peace. 

No cloud now dims the sky ; more balmy breathes 

The air ; around me heaven and earth are robed 

In brighter hues, and joy will be complete 

When thou hast promised to depart no more." 

" Beloved Calanthe, spare a heart distraught 

By woe whereof thou ne'er hast dreamed ! And Thou, 

Great Power, uphold me with immortal strength ! *' 

" WTiat mean th}' words, m}^ Damon ? Thou art pale, 
Wa^'worn ; but now maj'st thou repose. Come sit 
Thou here where we 've so oft reclined in da3's 
Gone by ; and take Anthera to thy arms. 
Strange that thou hast not j^et embraced thy child ! 
A blushing wreath she wears for th}' return." 

" Calanthe, unto thee my being flows ; 
For thou alone must deeply drink the cup 



108 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Of anguish when at last my tale is told. 

Yet from the revelation I must make, 

My soul shrinks back as from abysmal depths." 

'' An unknown terror, Damon, hast thou wrought 
Within mj' breast ! What mean thy dismal words ? " 

" Calanthe, I have ever loved thee ; ay ! 
More than too eager tongue in speech can tell ; 
But have I always been to thee what thou 
In hopefulness mad'st prayer for when the bay 
And ivy blended on our nuptial eve ? " 

"More hast thou been to me. Those early dreams 
But diral}^ shadowed forth my future joj\ 
I knew not then, as now, th}" honor, faith, 
And boundless love. The Hymenean song. 
Calm rising in that mellow summer eve, 
And softlj^-breathing Lydian flute, foretold 
Of happiness, but not of such as I 
Have felt with thee." 

" Calanthe, steel thy soul 
To that I shall reveal ! This day must I 
Depart from home, from wife and child, to see 
Them nevermore. No more ! Oh, bitterness ! 
No more, no more ! " 

" Oh, Damon, frightful are 
Thy words ! In mere}', speak to me and lift 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 109 

This dreadful burden ! All my heart's warm blood 
Is ice ! " 

" May God support thee while I tell 
The awful tidings thou must hear ! Our State 
Has been o'erthrown. The leader of our arms, 
One Dion^^sius, has by force acquired 
Despotic power, and now as t3Tant rules. 
Forewarned, I sought with others to defend 
Our perilled fatherland from treason's grasp : 
And hoping death or victory might betide, 
Resistance made most vainly till the last. 
'Twas then, overwhelmed by numbers, I was borne 
In chains to Lithotomia^, there to be 
Confined until the set of this daj^'s sun, 
When, by the tyrant's strict command, I must 
Come forth into the Agora, to die." 

'' But thou art free ! Thou hast escaped th}- doom ! 
Thy chains no longer bind ! A ray of joy 
Now shines within m}^ soul. Oh, let us haste ! 
With fair Anthera, let us seek afar 
Some home as bright as this, where nevermore 
May come the battle- sound or that dread word, 
' Farewell ! ' Italia, or the distant East, 
Or that blest clime be^^ond the boreal realm, ^ 

1 The Hyperboreans were supposed to dwell in the remote 
regions of the North, and to be a happy race, free from old 
age, disease, and war. 



110 DAMOJ^ AND PYTHIAS. 

Shall be our place of refuge. There we'll live 
A life that knows no sorrow. Wife and child 
Will let thee wander from their side no more." 

" Alas, Calanthe ! that fond dream of love 

And hope shall swiftly vanish as it dawned : 

And even as thy soul is filled with faith 

And honor, thou shalt read the fatal truth, 

That not more surely comes the set of sun 

Than Damon goes to meet the headsman's stroke. 

Calanthe, as a pledge of my return 

Within the appointed time, a dearest friend, 

A Brother, wears my chains and perils life. 

For unto Pj'thias, whom thou knowest well, 

The tyrant gave consent that I once more 

Might seek my home to say the parting word ; 

He to remain instead, and suffer death 

In mj^ default. Thus am I firmly bound 

B}^ tie more powerful than my prison bonds." 

As when some mother-bird, that near her j'oung. 
Amid the enchanted foliage, swift outpours, 
In endless flow of sweetness, all the joy 
And sunshine of her heart, and so doth fill 
The echoing grove with heavenly harmonj^, — 
Pierced by the cruel archer's fatal shaft, 
Yields up her little life, and suddenly 
Her voice is still, and tiny nestlings call 



DAMCm AND P YTHIAS. Ill 

In vain, in vain, — so, when Calanthe hears 
The words foretelhng Damon's doom, her soul 
All-moanful sinks to silent, lonely depths, 
Where mortal pain and sorrow can no more. 

The silvery streamlet, gently gliding b}^, 

The zephj'r whispering 'mid o'erhanging boughs. 

The warbled strains that float through chequered 

shade, 
Nor e'en the child, which not unwittingly 
Clingeth unto the mother's side and weeps, — 
The garland fallen, scattered all its flowers, — 
Can soothe Calanthe in this deadly grief, 
Or rouse her from her husband's breast. 

The hour 
Hath come, — the hour when manhood, honor, faith, 
Are calling to the prison-house, the block. 
The tomb ! Crushed by o'ermas.tering woe, in vain 
Doth Damon strive to saj^ the parting word ; 
Too feebly do his lips respond. 

But time 
Now urgeth, and Calanthe, hardly j'et 
Restored to life by many a fond caress, 
Heareth the sad, h%lf-uttered word, '' Farewell ! " 
'' Ah, stay ! " she cries ; '' but for a little while 
Be with thy wife and child ! " 

''A Brother's life, 
Calanthe, is in peril whilst I wait. 



112 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Late was my coming, for, distraught by ginef, 
I wandered far from my accustomed path, 
So must I hasten to return. The sun 
Akeady mounteth high upon his course." 

" Oh, Damon, that his setting might give me, 
As thee, a grave ! But for our child, my life 
Should end with thine ! The golden dreams that made 
My future bright are gone forevermore. 
Ah ! what is left me now, forlorn of thee ? 
Dark is my path, and desolate ! But not 
Calanthe shall persuade thee to dishonor 
Worse than death.'' 

" O noble wife, these words 
Lift up vay soul ! The anguish of this hour 
Of separation seems to pass away, 
And now I '11 go with braver heart to bear 
The mortal stroke. Farewell ! farewell ! Do thou 
And sweet Anthera take from me a last 
Embrace as pledge of my eternal love. 
Forget me not in all the jxars to come. 
A father and a husband ye will see 
No more on earth ! Yet knights, both true and tried, 
Among my Brotherhood, will e'er provide 
For you. Weep not, Calanthe ! we shall meet 
Again. Farewell ! farewell ! " 

Upon his steed 
Sprang Damon ; and the mother, tear-bedimmed, 



DAMON- AND PYTHIAS. 113 

With trembling arms, held high her little one 
To wave a last good-bj'. 



IX. 

What art thou, Death ? The soul made vile by guilt 

Doth fear thee as thou wert the chiefest ill ; 

And on the despot, whom thy watchful arm 

Presseth in ever-swifter flight, thou fall'st 

Like heaven's avenging bolt. But he, within 

Whose sorrow-laden breast all hope is dead. 

Welcomes the steel that cuts the thread of life, 

And smiles when cometh near the hour supreme ; 

And patriotic hearts, on battle-field 

And in the dungeon's midnight gloom, defy 

Thy might ; and all the good and wise, unmoved. 

Await thy stroke. What art thou, then, O Death? 

A shadow dim, a blessing or a curse. 

Diversely taking from the souls of men 

Thy form and nature. ^ 

Through the flaming east, 
As with the light of conflagration, shine 
The beams of risen morn ; and far away 
The countless waves of dark-blue ocean smile. 
And onward roll to seek yon fertile shore, 

i After the Italian of Yincenzo Monti. 



114 DAMON Al^D PYTHIAS. 

Whose waving leaves and opening flowers invite 

To greet with blended joys the welcome day. 

Ortj'gia's citadel and sea-girt walls 

Gleam tall and white against the mounting orb, 

And from the heights that crown Epipolse 

To where Anapus' flood glides on to pay 

Its tribute to the main, all Syracuse 

Is gladdened with the bright, celestial rays. 

What throngs so early fill her streets ? Why haste 

So many to the market-place ere yet 

Is come the wonted hour when Hermes ^ lifts 

His golden wand ? What novel cause hath brought 

The multitudes, released from rustic toil, 

That surge within the gates ? 

It is the day 
When Damon is to die ; and from afar 
The bruited tidings of his mortal doom 
Have drawn the greedj^ populace betimes, 
Eager e'en now to view, with gaping mouth, 
The ground erelong to redden with his blood. 



1 Hermes (Mercury) was the tutelary god of traffic. But this 
was only one of his many offices. He was also the messenger 
of the gods, the conductor of the dead, the god of all arts and 
sciences, and of peace; of prudence, cunning, fraud, and even 
of perjury; he was also, at least among the Romans, invoked by 
thieves. One of his epithets — xp^^^opp^^"''-? — referred to his bear- 
ing a golden rod with magical properties. 



DAMOX AND PYTHIAS. 115 

But while men gather, swift a rumor flies, 

Believed by none, that Damon is released. 

Yet soon confirmed, the wondrous tale is told 

That Damon, by the sovereign's will set free, 

Has gone from SjTacuse to seek his home, 

Leaving his friend in pledge of his return. 

Amazement fills the souls of all. By what 

Entreat}^ was the t^Tant led to grant 

This boon to Damon, who had, first and last, 

Endeavor made to crush his traitorous scheme ? 

And stranger still, that Pythias, caring naught 

For life, hath taken on himself the chains 

Of Damon, with full knowledge thence should come 

His own destruction ! For who madly dreams 

That Damon, now secure, and holding life 

And liberty within his grasp, will e'er 

Return to Syracuse ? Such thoughts are thought 

And uttered. And while some admire the hap 

That gave to Damon freedom, others sneer 

At P3'thias' folly or feel pity for 

His certain fate. 

Now from Ortygia come 
An hundred hoplites of the royal guard. 
And with them workmen, who at once begin, 
With busy handicraft, to frame and raise 
Within the Agora the loft}" stage 
Of death, whereon to all shall be displayed 
The execution of the tyrant's will. 



116 DAMON AND PYTHIAN. 

Around, an ever-growing multitude 

Stands idly grouped to watch them at their task, 

Whilst each from each fresh tidings seeks to gain. 

Unto the greater part it is enough 

To know that Pj^thias dies at set of sun, 

And careless of aught else, they inh^ fret 

And chide the slow revolving of the hours. 

Fit subjects of despotic sway are these ! 

But clustered here and there, aloof from such, 

Are patriots, who, in secret words, lament 

A fallen state, and view, with heavy hearts, 

The coming fate of one — whichever it be — 

That perishes as Freedom's sacrifice. 

The gnomon's changing shadow now hath marked 

The noontide hour, and overhead the God 

Of Day seems lingering in his course to learn 

What mighty cause hath wrought such change below, 

That, in the fields untilled, no husbandman 

Appears, and on the lonely sea no gleam 

Of sail, whilst all the homes and public ways 

Of SjTacuse are tenantless and still, 

And through the city is no sign of life. 

Save only there within the Agora, 

Where countless thousands mingle in the host, 

Restless and surging, j^et forever held 

And bound b}' that which fills the common gaze. 

In this o'ercrowded mart hath Commerce e'er 



fe 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 117 

Maintained her place, but now her voice is still. 
And not, methinks, to-daj', would such as bend 
The knee to Plutus^ seek their wonted gains. 
The radiant god, whose high, imperial car 
Stays not in its eternal path, begins 
His downward course, and heedless whether life 
Or death befall, draws nearer to his goal. 
His slanting beams still light a steadfast sea 
Of upturned faces, gazing now at him 
To mete how soon, departing, he shall rest 
Upon the western ridge ; yet oftener there 
Where read}^ waits the grim machine of death, 
Protected by the guardsmen's circling steel ; 
While yonder, on Ortygia's crowded walls, 
Are men-at-arms, in glittering panoply. 
Who look amazed upon the mighty throng, 
And wait the hour when, girded by their spears, 
The tjTant goes to mark how Pythias dies. 
For who, from Dionysius to the least 
Among his following, dreams that ere again 
Will Damon willingly come back to meet 
His awful doom ? Event so strange woukl be 
A wonder fit to be inscribed in bronze. 
And kept for a perpetual memory 
Among the public archives of the State. 

1 Plutus (HAoGto?) was the god of riches. Jupiter dejjrived 
him of sight that he might not bestow wealth on the righteous 
alone. 



118 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

And of the multitude around the block 

Onl}^ that band of Brothers, hither led 

hy mingled love and grief for him condemned, 

Feeling a tie that others cannot feel, 

And knowing well what faith and Friendship are, 

Can say, with hearts wherein no doubt may rest. 

That Damon will return in timel}' speed, 

Eager for death, that Pjlhias may go free. 

But soon the time hath passed which Damon had 
Foretold should see his coming. Lower sinks 
The lamp of day, and longer shadows warn 
That soon the western hills will hide its beams. 

What cause of unforeseen delay hath kept 
Our Brother ? Surely some calamity 
Of gravest import hath befallen him ! 
Yet must he quickl}' come or Pj^thias dies. 
One hour alone remains ere set of sun. 
But if he come not ! That ma}' never be. 
Unless the hand of death shall stay his steps. 
Erelong Ortygia's walls resound the clang 
Of brazen trumpets, which proclaim to all 
Without that now the sovereign will approach ; 
And through the open portal swiftlj^ ride 
Armed knights, who hasten to the Agora, 
And, sundering the throng, shout unto them 
To make a waj' for Dionysias. 



DAMOJ}^ A yD P YTHIAS. 119 

Strong files of hoplites follow next ; and then, 
In ranks compact, march forth the ro^^al guard, 
With, lo ! the tyrant in the midst of them. 
Around the place of death the phalanx forms, 
And thus protected, Dionysius waits 
Till to his presence Pjthias shall be brought. 

As on him, standing there, the level beams 
Of sunset fall, methinks it strange that he, 
A beardless youth, one, almost yesterday, 
Unknown to fame, should now, as sovereign, 
Be master of our fortunes, of our lives, 
And lord it over Syracuse, the first 
And greatest city of Trinacria. 
And so do many wonder while the}' gaze, 
For unto him alone all eyes are turned. 
And everywhere a breathless silence reigns. 

As when the surface of some tranquil lake, 

Set bright and gem-like 'mid surrounding hills, 

Ripples beneath the flitting mountain breeze 

That in a single murmur lives and dies. 

So as our Brother Pj'thias stands revealed 

In Dion3'sius' presence, quickly riseth 

The sound of many tongues, — then all is hushed. 

Freed from his chains, erect the captive stands. 
His manlv countenance no lurking fear 



120 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

Dishonors, but the beaming eye, the lips 
Compressed, show triumph and a heart firm fixed 
In high and noble purpose. 

Unto him 
The t^^rant sternly saith, " The hour's at hand 
Appointed for the death of Damon. There, 
On yon horizon, sits the parting orb ; 
Thus lingereth o'er its grave thy sun of life. 
Th}^ friend hath not returned, so thou must die ! " 

" TjTant, I welcome death ! The prison-house 
Hath heard m}' prayer that thus might come the end. 
Ready and willing, I await the stroke 
That gives me death, and Damon liberty ! " 

'' But car'st thou nothing for the joyful light 
Of life? Behold'st thou not around thee friends, 
Who weep for thee, departing thus untimely? 
Seest thou not how 'neath the day's last smile, 
All Syracuse is robed in raj^s of splendor ? 
And art thou willing, leaving thus the bloom 
Of life and dear companionship of friends, 
To bear the gloomy silence of the tomb ?" 

''Mine eyes, indeed, behold the vision, yet 

Beholding it they seem to tell my soul 

More loudly of the happiness the friend 

Best loved shall taste wlien I have passed away." 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 121 

''But canst thou deem him friend that shamelessly 
Betraj'ed thee into suffering the doom 
Pronounced on him ? Recall the 13'ing words 
Whereb}', within the dungeon-keep, he feigned 
To give thee firm assurance that betimes 
He would return to rescue thee from death. 
Too well knew I the falseness of his heart ! 
But tell me, where, where now are those firm ties 
Of Brotherhood that bound thee unto him ? 
Like ropes of sand are these in such an hour 1 " 

" No, Dionysius. Neither danger's form 
Nor love of life can rend those sacred ties, 
Or move the steadfast soul of him on whom 
They rest. Say not that Damon is withheld 
By fear of aught iliy power could e'er inflict ! 
He hath not come ; the cause, — it matters not. 
Enough for me if he doth live. Perchance, 
His friends detain him, or the tearful woe 
Of wife and child his reason hath o'erwhelme J 
Naught else, methinlis, could have so long delayed 
His coming, in fulfilment of his word." 

'' Fool that thou art ! He never will return ! 
Nor hath his purpose dreamed of turning back ! 
Far less would be my wonder should the sea 
Now glow beneath another rising sun, 
Or should yon fortress sink beneath the waves 



122 DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 

That idly beat against its walls, tlian if 
Thine e^^es amazed should ever look again 
Upon thy faithless friend in SjTacuse. 
Headsman, perform th\^ dutj' ! Yet delay 
But for an instant ; still some golden beams 
O'erpass the western ridge. But when the last 
Departing ray hath left the gilded top 
Of 3'onder gnomon, strike and kill this man ! " 

What midnight silence now unbroken reigns ! 
The mighty host, unmoving, speechless, look 
Upon the common centre, where is seen, 
Amidst a forest dense of glittering steel, 
Our Brother kneeling at the fatal blpck, 
The t3Taut and the headsman standing nigh, 
With others, who with eagerness await 
The signal when shall fall the mortal stroke. 
The Agora is an unbroken sea 
Of thick-compacted human life, and far 
Away, vast multitudes have densel}^ thronged 
The temples, house-tops, and whatever place 
Maj^ yield a foothold for the venturous gaze. 

In that dread moment did our little band 

Of Brothers mourn that P3'thias was to die.*^ 

Ay ! even as our sorrow-laden hearts 

Made moan for Damon ; for right well we knew 

That death alone had kept him from our sight. 



DAMOy AND PYTHIAS. 123 

A gesture from the tyrant, and swift mounts 

The headsman s gleaming sword. Our eyes are turned 

Away. One gride of steel, and all were o'er ! 

We tremble as we listen for the sound, — 

We tremble, yet the death-blow cometh not. 

But wh}'? Oh, wonder! when the headsman raised 

The deadly blade, his vision caught afar, 

Upon the loftier heights, the forms of men 

Whose frantic arms were waving unto him, 

As if to stay his hand ; and to his ears 

Was borne the mingled chorus of their shouts, 

High raised and loud and ever wilder shrilled. 

He wavered 'twixt the doing and the deed ; 

And in that instant Dion3'sius saw 

The far-off tumult, and the outcries heard, 

And quickl}' turning, bade the headsman pause. 

And well, indeed, may all men stand amazed, 
For as of mighty tempest comes the roar 
Of countless voices. Nearer now it swells. 
And yonder, lo ! the massy crowd hath surged 
To right and left, and through the path there made 
A horseman spurs his steed, and hither ward 
Urgeth his headlong course. " Make wa}' ! make 

way ! " 
" Thank God ! 'tis he, that in this latest hour 
Hath come to save his friend ! " Amidst a shout 
That rifts the vault of heaven, swift as light 



124 DAMOK AND PYTniAS. 

He fleets unto the block where Pj^thias kneels, 
And leaping from his steed — that sinks and dies - 
Enwraps that Brother in his arms, and weeps. 

Pale, speechless, thunderstruck the tjYEint stands, 
Nor word nor motion tells his secret thought. 

Now 'twixt ecstatic joy and lingering tears. 
No more can Damon utter than, " Saved ! saved ! 
M}^ Pythias, thou are saved ! " Then crieth he, 
'• Thou livest, best-loved Brother, and in thee. 
The half of mine own soul, live I a life 
Restored. What anguish and what dreadful fear 
Have filled my breast ! My thankful, joyful heart 
Beats wikll}^ as I see thee safe, and haste 
To meet my doom. Yet ere I 'm cold in death. 
Hear thou my tale, and hearing it, forgive ! 
Released by thee, I hastened to my home 
And quickly bade farewell to wife and child. 
Then, earl}", timely, I set forth on my 
Return. I know not what of fear for thee 
Oppressed me. Onward flew my foaming steed, 
In furious haste, —he fell, and there he died. 
Dashed to the earth, I lay as one deprived 
Of life, and when at length I oped mine ej'es, 
The orb of day had sunk far toward its bourne. 
And thou and Syracuse were far away ! 
A madness seized me ! Loudl}^ then I called 



DAMON' AND PYTHIAS. 125 

On heaven and earth to save thee from thy fate, — 

To help me on my way ! In vain, in vain ! 

Onl}^ the hideous echoes mocked my voice. 

But whilst I stood bereft of reason; lo ! 

A horseman swiftly passed me on the road. 

I shouted unto him ; he stayed his course, 

He listened to m}^ words, and to that man, 

Lucullus, the Italian, — for I learned 

His name and nation, — owest thou thy life. 

And I, that now I may depart in peace. 

In me, by proof that never errs, he found 

A Brother. From his steed he quickly sprang . 

Then helping me to mount, bade me God speed : 

And so I hastened unto Syracuse. 

Now, headsman, I am ready. I await 

The blow. Farewell, my Brother ! " 

Then aloud 
Cries Pj^thias, " Stay! 'tis I, 'tis I that wait 
The blow ! Thou shalt not die, my Brother ! I 
Alone am now reserved for death." 

" This hour 
Of dread hath crazed thee, Pythias ! Loose from me 
Thy grasp. 'Tis I who am condemned to die." 

" Ay ! but too late thou cam'st, the time was past. 
To Dionysius I appeal ! Stand back ! 



126 DAMOy AND PYTHIAS, 

Unhand me ! Let me kneel again beside 
The block ! " 

' ' TVliat madness, Pj'thias, fi% thy soul ? 
I have thee now secure. Thou shalt not move. 
To Dion3'sius I too will appeal, 
Knowmg full well what judgment he will pass." 

So unto Dionysius all men turn. 

Yet pale, unmoving, speechless, long he stands ; 

Then sudden waking, as one from a dream, 

He straight commands, '^ Let silence be proclaimed ! " 

The gloom of eventide is closing in ; 
But on the western hills a purple mound 
Of fading light is piled as o'er a grave. 
Now like a requiem for departed day 
A mingled strain of trumpets riseth, wild 
And mournful on the air, and sinks and dies. 
Then all is still. 

High raised above the vast 
And silent throng, intent upon his words, 
Stands Dionysius. For a moment, as 
In thought, he opens not his mouth ; and then 
He calmly speaks, that those afar may hear : — 

" Mark jq my words, O men of Syracuse, 
Learn what your sovereign's will and pleasure is. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 127 

" Beside me are two Brothers, bound by ties 
Of Fellowship, to me a mystery. 
Of these two Brothers, Damon, for offence 
Against my roj'al majesty, was doomed 
To die. 

" That ere the appointed hour 
He might behold his home and bid his wife 
And child farewell, his Brother, Pythias, took 
Upon himself to wear his chains, and meet 
For him his doom, should he return no more. 
Then Damon was released and went to seek 
His home. And now, from home and wife and child 
And liberty, he swiftly hastens back 
To rescue Pythias' life and yield his own. 
When Pythias took upon himself these chains, 
E'en for an instant could the dread of death 
O'ercome the generous purpose of his love ? 
When Damon felt again the joys of home, 
The happiness of freedom, could his'soul 
Forget the peril of his captive friend ? 
Judge ye, who have beheld this wondrous scene, 
And tell me, for I know not, which hath best 
Observed the tie of Friendship. 

''Each of them 
Now begs for death, that so his friend may live- 

' ' But hearken unto my imperial will ! 
To Pythias I give back the liberty 



128 DAMOK AND PYTHIAS. 

That unto him most rightful^ belongs ; 
And unto Damon just release I grant, 
And now and here m.y pardon I extend. 
Long 3'ears of peace and happiness abide 
With both ! And if this wish avail, may I 
Be made a third in their firm Fellowship 1 " 

He ended ; and from all the dusky gloom 
Thousands on thousands joined in wild acclaim. 
And gave, with one accord, a mighty shout. 
That startled Night upon her ebon throne ; 
And broad Trinacria trembled with the sound ; 
And far away the waves of ocean leaped. 

He ended ; and the hours of night began, 
But night so full of joy as that, I ween, 
Was never known before in Syracuse. 



APPENDIX 

To THE Story of Damo:n' akd Pythias. 



A. 

iExNA. — ^tna (in Italian, Monte Gibello, or, by con- 
traction, Mongihello), situated on the east coast of Sicily, 
in tlie province of Catania (formerly Catana), is one of the 
highest mountains in Europe, rising to an altitude of nearly 
11,000 feet from the level of the sea. Although composed, 
properly speaking, of manj^ large mountains, its formation 
presents the general appearance of an immense obtuse cone, 
standing isolated and distinct, and terminated superiorly 
by the smoking mouth of the crater. 

A secoad principal crater, produced by the dreadful 
eruption of 1669, exists near its summit, and many smaller 
ones are to be seen on its sides, but all of these are extinct. 

.^tna is divided into three zones, of which the lowest is 
very fertile and populous, containing a population of about 
300,000; the second is a wooded region, covered with for- 
ests of oak, pine, and chestnut trees : one of the last va- 
riety is large enough to afford shelter to one hundred 
horsemen, whence the Italian call it cento cavalli ; finally, 
rises a desert region, at the summit of w^hich is the crater, 
more than three miles in circumference, and always in 
activity. This part of the mountain Pindar called ''the 
nurse of keen snow all the year long," and the contrast 
of its fires and snows is dwelt on by later writers. From 
this region Sicily is supplied with ice. The circumference 



130 APPENDIX TO THE STORY OF 

of -^tna at its base is not less than one hundred miles, and 
some writers have nearly doubled this estimate. From its 
top the view extends, in clear weather, from Vesuvius to 
the island of Malta, ^tna is celebrated in fable, for under 
it Jupiter had chained an offending giant, variously said to 
have been Typhon, Enceladus, and Briareus. 

In the following lines Virgil describes this burning 
mountain, and recounts the myth which served to explain 
its eruptions : — 

" Portus ab accessu ventorum immotus, et ingens 
Ipse; sed horrilicis juxta tonat ^tna minis, 
Interdumque atram prorunipit ad sethera nubem, 
Turbine fumantem piceo et candente favilla; 
Attollitque globos flammarum, et sidera lambit: 
Inter dum scopulos avulsaque viscera mentis 
Erigit eructans, liquefactaque saxa sub auras 
Cum gemitu glomerat, fundoque exaestuat imo. 
Fama est, Enceladi semiustum fulmine corpus 
Urgueri mole hac, ingentemque insuper ^tnam 
Tmpositam rnptis flammam exspirare caminis ; 
Et fessum quotiens mutet latus, intremere omnem 
Murmure Triuacriam, et coelum subtexere fumo." 

^n., Ill, 570-5S*2. 

** The port, capacious and secure from wind, 
Is to the foot of thund'ring iEtna joined. 
By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high, 
By turns hot embers from her entrails fly. 
And flakes of mountain flames, that lick the sky. 
Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown, 
And, shiver 'd by the force, come piecemeal down. 
Oft liquid lakes of burniug sulphur flow, 
Fed from the fiery springs that boil below. 
Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by Jove, 
With blasted limbs came tumbling from above; 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 131 

And, where he fell, th' avenging father drew 
This flaming hill, and on his body threw. 
As often as he turns his weary sides, 
He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the heavens hides.'* 

Dryden's Translation. 

Mythology also placed in the caverns of ^tna the smithy 
of the Cyclopes, a savage race of one-eyed giants, who 
there assisted Vulcan in forging the thunderbolts of Jupi- 
ter and the arms of the gods and celebrated heroes. 

The first known eruption took place in the time of 
Pythagoras, and of this Pindar, who called the mountain 
**the pillar of heaven" (^<tuiv hvpavov) makes mention. In 
the reign of Dionysius the Elder, two eruptions occurred. 
During one of these, Plato, who was then a guest at the 
tyrant's court, was invited by the Catanians to visit them 
and study the phenomena of their famous volcano. 

The lava of ^tna ingulfed the ancient cities of Kaxos, 
Hybla, and Inessa. The eruption of 1183 destroyed Ca- 
tania with 15,000 persons; in that of 1669, which lasted 
several months, 20,000 lives were lost; in that of 1693, 
sixty villages were consumed, and 18,000 of their inhabit- 
ants perished. The last eruption took place in 1865. 



B. 

Syracuse. — Founded B. C. 735 by a colony of Corin- 
thians under Archias, Syracuse soon became the most 
important city in Sicily. Its population at the time of its 
capture by the Romans was about 1,000,000. Its early 
form of government was republican. Ruled afterwards by 
kings, Gelon (484-478), Hiero (478-467), and Thrasybulus 
(467-466), it recovered its independence and was (466- 



132 APPENDIX TO THE STORY OF 

405) governed as a democracy. It was in the last interval, 
414, that the attack of Athens was victoriously repulsed 
and the long struggle with Carthage began. Dionysius 
the Elder became tyrant B. C. 405 and reigned until 367. 
After him ruled Dionysius the Younger (367-357), Dion 
(357-354), Callipe (354-353), Ilipparinus (3:3-351), Nypsius 
(351-347), and Dionysius the Younger, restored from ex- 
ile (347-343). Timoleon (343) re-established the republic; 
Sosostratus (320-317) destroj^ed it. But it was again re- 
established by Agathocles (317-289) and survived after his 
death for twenty years. The Romans took the city, B. C. 
212, after a three years' siege, in spite of the wonders 
accomplished by the genius of Archimedes in its defence. 

In one of his orations against Yerres, Cicero gives a 
detailed description of Syracuse, which has been elegantly 
translated by Dr. Smith as follows : — 

''You have often heard that Syracuse was the largest of 
all Greek cities and most beautiful of all cities. And it is 
both, indeed. For it is strong by its natural position, and 
striking to behold from whatever side it is approached, 
whether by land or sea. It has two ports, as it were, 
enclosed within the buildings of the city itself, so as to 
combine with it from every point of view, which have 
different and separate entrances, but are united and con- 
joined together at the opposite extremity. The junction 
of these separates from the mainland the part of the town 
called the Island [Ortygia], but this is reunited to the 
continent by a bridge across the narrow strait which 
divides them. So great is the city that it may be said to 
consist of four cities, all of them of large size ; one of 
which is that which I have already mentioned, the Island, 
which is surrounded by the two ports, while it projects 
towards the mouth and entrance of each of them. In it 



DAMOy AXD PYTHIAS. 133 

is the palace of King Hiero, whicli is now tlie customary 
residence of our pretors. It contains also several sacred 
edifices, but two in particular which far surpass the others ; 
one, a temple of Diana, the other, of JMiuerva [Athena], 
which before the arrival of Yerres was most highly 
adorned. At the extremity of this island is a fountain of 
fresh water, which has the name of Arethusa, of incredible 
magnitude and full of fish This would be wholl}^ over- 
flowed and covered by the waves were it not separated 
from the sea by a strongly built barrier of stone. The 
second city of Syracuse is that which is called Achradina, 
which contains a forum [Agora] of very large size, beau- 
tiful porticos, a most highly ornamented Prytaneum, a 
spacious Curia, and a magnificent temple of Jupiter Olym- 
pus ; not to speak of the other parts of the city, which are 
occupied by private buildings, being divided by one broad 
street through its whole length and many cross streets. 
The third city is that which is called Tycha, because it 
contains a very ancient temple of Fortune. In this is a 
very spacious gymnasium as well as many sacred edifices. 
The fourth city is that which because it was last built was 
called Neapolis, at the top of which is a theatre of vast 
size; besides it contains two splendid temples, one of 
Ceres, the other of Libera, and a statue of Apollo, which 
is known by the name of Temenites, of great beauty and 
very large size, which Yerres w^ould not have hesitated to 
carry ofi* if he had been able to remove it." — Cic, Verr., 
lY, 52, 53. 

This description, although written at a later period, very 
nearly represents the more important features of the older 
parts of the town in the time of Dionysius. The citadel 
of Syracuse, which was rebuilt by Dionysius the Elder, 
probably stood in that part of Ortygia which faced Achra- 



134 APPENDIX TO THE STORY OF 

dina, and if so, looked directly upon tlie Agora or market- 
place. Achradiua extended inland and about three miles 
along the sea-coast. That part of it which was close to 
Ortj^gia consisted of low ground level with the island, but 
the remaining and larger part lay on a range of heights 
which stretched for several miles inland and were divided 
from the low land by a natural wall of rock. After Dio- 
nysius became tyrant, he removed the causeway, of which 
Cicero speaks, and by constructing additional fortifications 
and docks, convened Ortygia into an impregnable fortress. 
The LatomisB or Lithotomise were originally quarries 
excavated in the rocks that divided the upper from the 
lower part of Achradina, whence the stone for the con- 
struction of the city was drawn. They are from sixty to 
eighty feet deep. Soon after being opened they served as 
prisons, and on the surrender of Nicias, the whole (7,000) 
of the Athenian prisoners were confined in them, and most 
of them died. One of them, of large size, situated near the 
remains of an ancient theatre, is planted with a great va- 
riety of fruit trees. On one side of it, cut into the rock, is 
the remarkable excavation which, from its fancied resem- 
blance to the human tympanum, has been called ^'The Ear 
of Dionysius." **It is in the shape of a parabolic curve, 
ending in an elliptical arch, with sides, parallel to its axis, 
perfectly smooth, and covered with a slight stalactitic in- 
crustation that renders its repercussions amazingly sono- 
rous. It has an awful and gloomy appearance, which, with 
its singular shape, perhaps gave rise to the popular and 
amusing paradox that Dionysius had it constructed for the 
confinement of those whom he deemed inimical to his au- 
thority, and that from the little apartment above it he 
could overhear all the conversation among the prisoners." 
— Capt. Smith's Memoir, descriptive of Sicily, 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS. 135 



c. 

AcRAGAS. — This city was situated on the south coast of 
Sicily, a little to the southeast of modern Girgenti, between 
the rivers Hypsas {flume Dragu') and Acragas (flume di san 
Biagio). It was founded in B. C. 582 by a Dorian colony 
from Gela, and became very flourishing in commerce and 
agriculture. The capture of the city by the Carthaginians, 
here referred to, took place in the latter part of December, 
B. C. 406, after a siege of eight months. In B. C. 210 it 
came under the dominion of the Eomans, by whom it was 
known as Agrigentum. 

Acragas was built upon several hills, on the highest of 
which was the citadel. At the time of the Carthaginian 
siege it contained about 300,000 inhabitants. The esti- 
mate of Diogeues Laertius, that its population amounted 
to 800,000, is clearly excessive. 

Virgil mentions this place, together with several others 
referred to in this poem, in his description of the voyage 
of ^neas from Ortygia to Cape Pachynus, and thence 
along the south coast of Sicily : — 

** Sicanio praetenta sinii jacet insula contra 
Plemmyrium undosum : nomen dixere priores 
Ortygiam. Alpheum fama est hue Eliclis amnem 
Occultas egisse vias subter mare; qui nunc 
Ore, Arethusa, tuo Siculis confunditur undis. 
Jussi numina magna loci veneramur; et inde 
Exsupero praepingue solum stagnantis Helori. 
Hinc altas cautes projectaque saxa Pachyni 
Hadimus,. et fatis numquam concessa moveri 
Adparet Camarina procul campique Geloi, 
Immanisque Gela fluvii cognomine dicta. 
Arduus inde Acragas ostentat maxima longe 
Moenia, magnanimum quondam generator equorum ; 



136 APPENDIX TO THE STORY OF 

Teque datis linquo yentis, palmosa Seliniis, 
Et vada dura lego saxis Lilybeia caecis." 

jEn,, IIT, 692-707. 

Outstretclied before Sicania's bay, against 
Plemmyrium's billowy strand, an island lies; 
Its name the forefathers Ortygia called. 
Hither, they say, Alpheus, Elis' stream, 
Forced hidden channels 'neath the sea ; and now 
By thy fount, Arethusa, is it blent 
With the Sicilian waves. As bidden, we 
The mighty local deities adore ; 
And thence I pass the soil exceeding rich 
Of stagnating Helorus. Then we skirt 
Pachynus' lofty " crags that warning give," 
And jutting rocks; and never by the Fates 
Allowed to be removed, far, far away, 
Appeareth Camarina to our view, 
Geloan plains and Gela's monstrous town, 
That from the river takes its name. And then 
High Acragas its walls immense displays, 
Once the producer of high-mettled steeds; 
And thee, palm-clad Selinus, next I leave, 
With favoring winds, and coast along the shoals 
Of Lilybeum, rough with hidden reefs. 



D. 

DiONYSius. — Dionysius the Elder was born at Syracuse 
B C. 430. Of his early life very little is known, except 
that for a time he filled the position of scrivener or clerk 
in one of the public offices, and was afterwards a common 
soldier in the Syracusan army. He also joined the parti- 
sans of Hermocrates, and was severely wounded while 
engaged with them in an unsuccessful attempt to over- 



DAMOX AND PYTHIAS, 137 

throw the democratic government of his native city. Bnt 
up to the time of his remarkable speech in the ecclesia, he 
seems to have taken no prominent part in public affairs. 

As to the effect of his violent exhortation on that occa- 
sion we have only such information as is contained in the 
narratives of Plato and Diodorus, and these are in hope- 
less conflict. The author has accordingly been compelled 
to meet the difl3iculty thereby presented as best he could. 
The account of Plato would seem to be of higher author- 
ity, because he was both a contemporary of Dionysius and 
for some time a guest at his court; while the Historical 
Library of Diodorus was written between three and four 
centuries after the event. Upon this doubtful point Mr. 
Grote appends a learned and exhaustive note in Vol. X of 
his "History of Greece." The general conclusion, however, 
at which that eminent historian arrives is open to many 
objections. In describing the various steps whereby Dio- 
nysius rose to absolute power, occupying in all a period 
of not more than Ave or six months, the poem conforms 
substantially to the narrative of Diodorus. 

Dionysius was twenty-five years of age when he began 
to reign. His proscriptions and injustice raised against 
him many conspiracies and two revolts, which he sup- 
pressed. All his reign was occupied, 1st, In strengthen- 
ing himself in Syracuse; 2d, In driving the Carthaginians 
out of Sicily, and extending his dominion over the entire 
island; 3d, In conquering the Greek towns in the south 
of Italy. In the first war against the Carthaginians, while 
he held the position of general autocrator, he had yielded 
to them Gela and Camarina ; but in 403 he captured Enna, 
Catana, Naxos, Leontini, and Messene. Defeated by Hi- 
milco in 396, and besieged by him in Syracuse, he never- 
theless took Taurimenium at the close of the war. From 



138 APPENDIX TO THE STORY OF 

394 to 384 Italy occupied his attention. He made himself 
master of Locris in 389, and of Crotona, after a hard re- 
sistance, in 387. He formed an alliance with the Gauls, 
the conquerors of Eome, in 390, and also founded some 
colonies on the west coast of the Adriatic, and ravaged 
Etruria. After a third undecisive war with the Cartha- 
ginians, he captured, in 368, Selinus, Entella, and Eryx. 
Death alone prevented him from driving the Carthaginians 
out of Sicily. 

Cicero represents him as a tyrant in the worst sense. 
It is certain, however, that he restored independence to 
Sicily, enriched and enlarged Syracuse, increased her 
arsenals, fortifications, and marine, and fostered letters 
and the arts. He is said to have cultivated poetry and 
history, medicine and surgery. His horses raced at the 
Olympic games, where his chariots were broken and his 
poems hissed. And even in his own court Philoxenus, a 
poet of Cythera, found fault with his verses, and for this 
offence was committed to LithotomisB. But Athens at 
last crowned one of his tragedies, and Dionysius, to cele- 
brate the event, gave a grand banquet, at which he ate 
and drank so intemperately that he fell senseless and soon 
after died. According to others, he was poisoned by his 
son. His death took place in 367, and he had, accordingly, 
reigned thirty-eight years. 

Dionysius was married twice. His first wife perished 
in the emeute which followed the return of the knights 
from Gela to Syracuse. Afterward he married two wives 
at the same time, and each of them, it is said, continued 
to hold an equal share in his aflection. By one of these 
he had two sons and two daughters, and by the other, 
Dionysius the Younger, who succeeded him. 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 139 

E. 

Pythagoras. — This illustrious philosopher was born 
at Samos, about B. C. 5G0. At Lesbos he was a pupil of 
Pherecydes, aud at Miletus of Thales and Anaximander. 
He was also instructed by Hermodamas at Samos, and 
having been advised by him to complete his education by 
extensive travel, visited Phoenicia and subsequently went 
to reside in Egypt, which was then regarded by the Greeks 
as the repository of the highest wisdom. Here he ac- 
quired from the priests of Isis and Osiris a knowledge of 
their theocratic and sacerdotal systems, together with 
the elements of numbers and geometry and the language 
of symbols and hieroglyphics. Here, too, he was taught 
the doctrine of metempsychosis, but whether he accepted 
and applied this belief in its literal sense is somewhat 
doubtful. After he had lived in Egypt twenty-two years 
(547-525), that country was conquered by the armies of 
Cambyj^es, and according to Jamblichus, Pythagoras was 
led in captivity to Babylon, where he remained twelve 
years. During this interval, he acquired from the Chal- 
dasans and Magi the principles of astronomy, astrology, 
and medicine, and also gained a knowledge of the religions 
of India and was initiated into the doctrines of Zoroaster. 
On his return to Greece, 512, having visited Sparta, Elis, 
and Delphi, he attempted to found a school of philosophy 
in his native Samos, but was prevented by the hostility of 
Polycrates, who was then tyrant of the island. 

He then left Samos and went, preceded by an illustrious 
reputation, to Crotona in Southern Italy. Here he taught 
and established a secret society which was composed of 
the richest and noblest citizens. For a long time this 
association was very prosperous, but it was finally broken 



140 APPENDIX TO THE STOPY OF 

up by a popular insiirrectiou, in wMcli most of its members 
perished. Pythagoras subsequently retired to Metapon- 
tum, where he died at a very advanced age. 

Pythagoras himself, although perhaps the most learned 
philosopher of antiquity, wrote nothing. A collection of 
his maxims, called The Golden Yerses, was probably writ- 
ten by his pupil, Lycis. 

To Pythagoras is due in mathematics the discovery of 
various properties of numbers, the demonstration of the 
value of the hypothenuse, and of some other geometric 
theorems; in physics, the mathematical theory of musical 
sounds ; in astronomy, certain elementary notions regard- 
ing the movements of the sun, moon, and planets, which, 
though falling far short of the theory of Copernicus, were 
greatly in advance of the previous cosmographic ideas of 
the Greeks. In the centre of the universe he placed the 
*' central-fire," which his disciple Philolaus termed *'the 
hearth of the universe, the watch-tower of Zeus."- Around 
this the heavenly bodies revolved ; farthest ofi", the fixed 
stars, then, in order, the planets, the sun, moon, earth, 
and *' counter-earth" (avrCxOoiv), the last being '* a sort of 
other half of the earth, a distinct body from it, but always 
moving equal to it." The heavenly bodies were divided 
by certain intervals corresponding to those of the musical 
scale, and by its motion, each of them produced a certain 
note, determined by the distance of the body from the 
"central-fire." Hence arose the celebrated doctrine of 
" the music of the spheres." According to Cicero, Pytha- 
goras held that God was the soul of the world difi*used 
through all its parts. As all numbers are evolved from 
unity, so he claimed that from the primary unit or monad 
(God) all the universe was evolved. The Supreme Being 
had first created the ''immortal gods," then heroes (or 



DAMON AND PYTHIAS, 141 

angels, as some commentators understand), and last of 
all, as being least in dignity, man. He also recognized in 
God the moral governor of a moral universe. Souls that 
had lived ill, remained, after their earth-life, in the gulf 
of Hecate until purged of their impurities ; the souls of 
the just went to an abode of happiness above the moon. 

Long after the death of Pj^thagoras, many fraternities 
bearing his name and modelled after his plan continued to 
exist ; but all of them vrere at last consolidated with sim- 
ilar associations, called Orphic societies, in Greece. It is 
likely that the severe rules of discipline which he had im- 
posed on his followers became relaxed after his decease 
and that Fraternity was recognized to be the chief, as it 
always had been a principal, bond of their union. 

Prom the accounts which various authors give of the 
Pythagorean societies or brotberhoods, it appears : 1. 
There were degrees or gradations among the members 
themselves. 2. The members were devotedly attached 
to each other and were willing to sacrifice fortune or peril 
life in each other's behalf. ( This is attested by Porphyrins 
and Jamblichus.) 3. Whatever was taught or done among 
the members was kept a profound secret. 4. They had 
secret conventional symbols by which members who had 
never met before could recognize each other. {Schol. ad 
Arist. Kub.j Gil; Jamb j 237, 238; Krische, pp. 43, 44.) 
That the principles which were taught among them were 
correct is evident from the fact that the various Pytha- 
goreans mentioned in history are all represented to have 
been good and honorable men. 



